Band of Gypsies
by Natasha Vloyski
Summary: Story 1 of series. Harry has just suffered the death of Sirius, runs away to meet someone who'll help him. Other books in series are: A Debt Repaid, A Fatal Attachment, Gypsy Witch, Harry's Tale and The Visit.All to be posted soon. 4 all who missed them.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters were used without permission. They are the copyright of J.R. Rowling and Warner Bros. They are used with consideration and with no intent to make money. My thanks to Ms. Rowling for the many hours of entertainment her writing has afforded me. And out of respect for her, will withdraw this story if anyone finds it offensive.

**BAND of GYPSIES**

Chapter One

Harry Potter sat on the edge of his bed staring down at his Hogwarts' trunk. He had dropped it there only a short time before. He thought he would be able to do it; that is, to come back to Privet Drive and stay a month with the Dursleys. Looking blankly at his trunk, he had roused himself enough to realize that without his friends around him, the emptiness was about to swallow him whole.

He had just arrived from King's Cross station and had stood watching the exchange between Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia and the members of the Order; his friends. They had, perhaps, unwisely confronted Uncle Vernon and threatened him about treating Harry poorly. Harry now wondered what the repercussions would be.

He continued to sit, the hour growing later and the sun setting in molten gold just outside his window. Evening was drawing closer and Hedwig, his snowy white owl was clucking at her cage. She wanted out to hunt. Harry rose stiffly and unlatched the door to her cage, letting her fly off his arm through the open window into the night. Now he felt even lonelier, his one and only link left to the wizarding world was gone.

He sat quietly until it grew dark. The Dursleys could be heard faintly moving about downstairs and unexpectedly Harry heard the cat flap move at his back and a sandwich shoved through it. Harry peered over his shoulder. It was a sandwich alright; two pieces of bread and a slice of bologna. When punished in the past, dinner was always a cold bowl of soup. Harry wondered if this was the Dursleys' attempt to toe the line after having just been warned to treat him well.

He wasn't hungry but got up and wandered over to the tray. Stuck under one corner of his plate was a note. Curious, he pulled it out and unfolded it. It was from his Aunt, the writing extremely small and precise.

_Vernon and I would like to speak to you after you have had your dinner. 7:00 would be a convenient time. Aunt Petunia_

Harry continued to remain in his dull, vacant mood and couldn't find the energy to even laugh at the note. He found that numbing himself was a comfortable way to be. Nothing seemed to bother him; not the thought of rejecting- and possibly riling Uncle Vernon- or accepting the invitation- and finding out what it was his Uncle and Aunt wanted. He realized, after dropping the note, that he had left them at the beginning of the previous school year in rather unusual circumstances and that they might have quite a lot to say to him.

The previous year a pretense had been made up by Nymphadora Tonks, a member of the Order of the Phoenix and an Auror, as a means to fetch Harry from the Dursleys. Nymphadora, who preferred to be called Tonks, had the Dursleys go off to be awarded a special prize for All-England Best Kept Suburban Lawn Competition. Harry hadn't given much thought to how the Dursleys would have reacted to it all.

All of the events that followed in the year only served to erase the memory from his mind up until this very moment. And now, suffering the fresh, raw pain of his godfather's death, the news that Dumbledore had given him about the prophecy and once again being confined at Privet drive, Harry dropped the paper on top of his sandwich and went to sit down again. He couldn't find any emotional reserves to be worried or upset by the invitation to talk to his Aunt and Uncle. He decided it was easy to live one minute at a time and if 7:00 came and he felt obliging he would go down. And, if he didn't feel like it, he wouldn't.

He thought about the room. How it felt like a prison. It almost had been many times before. His Uncle had even resorted to barring the windows, and locking him in. Now there were no bars and the doors remained open but it still felt like prison. He felt like he was going insane.

At 7:10 Harry shook himself and stood up. It was pitch dark in his room and the house was quiet. He opened the door and squinted at the yellow hall light. Yes, he could hear the TV. They were downstairs. He moved quietly down the stairs keeping his mind wiped of thoughts. He walked down the hall, through the kitchen and around to the setting room. His aunt and Uncle were sitting watching a program. His cousin Dudley was strangely absent. Uncle Vernon shuddered when he saw Harry in the doorway.

"Why did you have to come creeping in?" Uncle Vernon blustered. Aunt Petunia hurriedly got up and sat beside him on the couch, her face stony and white. "It's quarter past seven! The note said 7:00!"

Harry stood in the doorway ready to turn and go back to his room. His Aunt must have sensed this because she put a hand on Vernon's arm.

"We need to talk," Uncle Vernon started, trying to master his anger. The vein in his temple throbbed dangerously.

Harry entered the room and sat down opposite them. He waited without speaking.

His Aunt nodded at her husband and sat up even straighter. "Well, well…your Aunt and I want you to send an OWL…" Vernon looked at Petunia and she nodded as if to say that he was doing it correctly. "We want you to send an owl to that headmaster of yours, Dundledore."

"You want me to send an owl to Dumbledore?" Harry repeated quietly.

"Yes. Since you have to live here." Vernon looked at his wife again, "I… that is…we- want to know what this Dundledore…"

"Dumbledore, Vernon," Petunia said, quickly cutting in.

"Yes, Dumbledore. What he is going to do to protect us from that Voldemort person and these ruddy Demeanors."

"Dementors, Vernon." Harry's aunt added again.

"Whatever! Dementors!" Vernon was fast losing control.

Harry stared at them. He rose to return to his room.

"Well? Are you going to do it?" His uncle rose with him.

Harry nodded and left, returning to his dark room. He was trailed by the sound of his uncle's voice exploding behind him. "Did you see that Petunia? Why, why if it wasn't for you, I would have bloody flattened that boy!" Harry slipped in through his door and closed it to his aunt's reply.

Harry sent Hedwig off a week later. He had taken time to compose the letter. He didn't want to give Dumbledore anything. He wasn't quite ready to let him off the hook. And so, the letter was very formal, just a means of forwarding Uncle Vernon's request and that was all. He asked Dumbledore to politely return his answer by muggle mail and address the reply to his Aunt and Uncle directly. Harry felt some mild pleasure in knowing that it would hurt Dumbledore.

Harry still had moments of intense grief with no outlet, followed by stony coldness that surrounded his heart. He did manage in the early hours of the day to go out and do some of the chores that were requested by his Aunt Petunia by way of a note dropped on his morning breakfast tray. The tray was still placed inside his door every day early in the morning before he woke. It was his Aunts' way of saying that he was no longer even welcome to join them at the morning breakfast table.

Harry didn't mind the chores. He was out of the house and working with his hands. Dudley left him alone. He didn't think that Dudley would ever treat him quite the same way since he thought Harry had been responsible for the attack by the Dementors the summer before. And for a time, Harry found that he was left alone in peace and quiet. He wasn't interested in listening to the news as he had been the previous summer. Then, he had tried to find out if Voldemort was active. Now, the rest of the wizarding world knew that Voldemort had returned. Harry knew that rumor and speculation would twist or disguise any real news. He also- didn't care.

Mrs. Figg had taken to strolling by the house when she saw Harry out in the yard or cutting the hedge. She walked slowly in an attempt to catch his eye. And when he refused to look up, she stopped, glanced around and spoke out of the corner of her mouth. "Hello Harry."

He stood from his crouched position and nodded to her. He had grown several inches and was now able to actually look down on her. He didn't reply.

"How are you Harry?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he said.

"Good. Good." She nodded once again scanning the street. It was the middle of a warm spring morning.

"Who else is watching me, Mrs. Figg?" Harry dropped the cutters into a bucket and wiped sweat form his brow. His glasses were sliding down his nose and he blinked to clear his vision.

"Oh, I'm not watching you, Harry," she began and then he cocked his head and glared at her.

"Alright, I am watching you. After last time, Dumbledore is very concerned that everything go well now. There are several new people that are around. Don't be alarmed, you're quite safe."

Harry snorted his derision. "Really!" He found a well of anger rising. "Safe am I? With a squib?"

He knew the minute he said it that he had been cruel. She winced and started to leave. "Mrs. Figg, I'm sorry," he said, a little too loudly. She winced again, worried that he might blow their cover.

"It's alright Harry." Although from her expression, he could tell that he had hurt her feelings. "I guess I'll be going. Drop by for tea anytime."

"Thank you," he said. He watched her wobble down the street, gritting his teeth. So now everyone is going to feel sorry for me, he thought. I'm trapped! A prisoner, watched, guarded, hunted! For a minute he could feel a rush of anxiety, anger and panic rising like a sour lump into his throat. He'd fought the feeling time and again and the thoughts that brought it on. Harry thought if he let go, the tears would come. They were always so close to the surface and it terrified him. Unable to control it, he kicked the bucket instead and sent it careening across the yard.

It was Ron's letter, and the event that took place later the same night, that finally made him decide what he needed to do. Harry had been spending his evenings lying in the dark on his bed staring at the ceiling. Pigwidgeon had fluttered through the open window, zooming around in the dark until Harry, with lightening quick reflexes born of snatching Quidditch Snitches, grabbed the tiny fluff from the air. He untied the small note and turned on a light to read it.

_Dear Harry,_

_Dumbledore has finally given me and Hermione the go ahead to write to you. I hope you're okay. I'm writing this in a big hurry. We have about an hour to put our things together. We're being moved from the Burrow. Dumbledore thinks it's too dangerous for us to live here with the way things are -as you know. So we are going to you- know -where. By the time Pig gets this to you we will be there. Just remember its only a VERY short time before you can join us. Lots to tell you about. _

_Ron_

Harry reread the note. Once again, as it had been the previous summer, Ron and Hermione could not give him any news. He knew it was worthless to send a letter begging for information. He dropped the letter into his desk drawer and switched off the light.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia and Dudley had left a note on his dinner tray that they were going out to supper at a new restaurant. An associate of Uncle Vernon's had made the invitation, purely to win a new position at the drill company his uncle worked for. Uncle Vernon had made out that the "young pup needed a father image" and had chosen him as his new mentor. Harry stared open mouth at his uncle on his one trip to the kitchen. Dumping his tray of uneaten food into the trash bin, he hurriedly washed up and left the room.

Now he lay in the dark and listened to his stomach growl. He was normally a thin person and having lost his appetite made eating a chore. His hand-me down clothes were hanging on him even more than usual and he knew that he couldn't afford to lose more weight. He contemplated taking a trip to the kitchen for a piece of fruit when he heard a rustling noise downstairs. Once again he experienced déjà vu, remembering the noises his rescuers had made the summer before.

_It's too early_, he thought,_ I've only been here for two weeks_. Way too early for Professor Lupin or Moody to fetch him back to No. 12 Gimmauld place. Dumbledore had told him he must spend at least one month out of his summer vacation with the Dursleys in order for his mother's blood protection to have an effect. He rose quietly from the bed. Putting his eye to a crack in the door, he saw an eerie green light shining in the downstairs hall. This time his heart raced wildly and he searched in the dark for his wand.

Harry had been careless with his Hogwarts trunk and his wizarding things. His first day of being back, he'd shoved them under his bed and hadn't bothered to drag his books out to start his vacation homework. Now, he searched frantically in the dark. He didn't care if he got in trouble this time. Things had changed. If he got expelled for using magic to protect himself, then so be it. And he wanted to hurt, and maybe even kill the person down in the kitchen.

Then there were bright lights of a car pulling in the drive, car doors slamming and the sound of the Dursleys returning. Harry listened to a muffled bellowing from Uncle Vernon and his heavy steps plodding up the stairs. He threw open the door and found Harry laying on his belly reaching under the bed.

"COME DOWNSTAIRS THIS INSTANT! he shouted. Harry hesitated and Uncle Vernon's chubby fist grabbed his collar and yanked him to his feet. Pushing Harry in front of him they walked down the stairs, Harry's aunt and his cousin stood at the entrance to the house, his aunt's face thin with fear and his cousin's pressed in against his mother. Dudley leaned against his frail and smaller mother stuttering and drooling incoherently.

Harry was bodily pushed down the hall. "WHAT ARE THESE?" His uncle pushed him towards scorch marks made against a pristine white wall. A heavy fist shoved him in the back. "GO ON. LOOK IN THERE!" Harry shook his uncle's hand off and proceeded down the hall into the kitchen. There were more marks and as he stepped into the light he stopped, stunned. The appliances were melted, lumpy pools of metal and plastic. Written, as if blasted from the plaster wall, were the words-HE KNOWS WHERE YOU ARE, TIME FOR YOU TO DIE.

Harry turned wordlessly and walked past Uncle Vernon, past Aunt Petunia and his groaning cousin, Dudley. He climbed the stairs as Uncle Vernon stood at the bottom shouting at him, "You send a BLOODY OWL to that DIMBLEDORE fellow and tell him to come and FETCH YOU TONIGHT! I won't have you here ONE MORE MINUTE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? I WILL NOT HAVE MY WIFE AND MY SON HARMED BECAUSE OF YOU!"

Harry shut the door on his Uncle's words and stood looking into the star-studded night outside his window. Dark wizards have been here, he pondered. How could they have done that. Why isn't it safe here?

Pulling open his closet he scrounged and found a knapsack. Hurriedly, he pulled his trunk out and stuffed his wand, his traveling cloak, the Invisibility Cloak that belonged to his father and was given to him at Christmas by Dumbledore and a set of robes into it. Along with those, he included some muggle clothing. He counted muggle change and his wizarding money and dumped all of it in the bottom of the bag. Glancing at Hedwig he took time to scribble a note, tie it to her leg and set her off into the night. He slid out the door after giving one last glance at his schoolbooks and trunk laying open and left behind on the floor. His Firebolt glimmered in the corner and he swallowed hard shutting the door on the sight of it.

This time, Harry thought, I'm not afraid. The Dursleys were not present when he made his way down the stairs. He could hear them in the kitchen, Aunt Petunia sobbed through the thin walls. "Oh Vernon, what are we going to do?"

"Don't you worry dear, he'll be out in the morning. They won't dare wait for me to call the police and expose them all."

"Oh Vernon, you can't do that!" Aunt Petunia's voice rang out in shock.

"I can and I will!" Uncle Vernon shouted and then softened. "Petunia, what if we had been home earlier?" and so on.

Harry waited for just a moment and then slid out the front door. He picked up the new speeding bike that was leaning carelessly against the hedge where Dudley had dumped it earlier in the day. Harry had never ridden a bike, since he'd never owned one. He hoped that it was as easy as riding a broom.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

It took most of the night, but Harry rode through the lamp-lit streets until he made his way into the inner city streets of London. There were several ways to enter the wizarding world from the muggle world. He knew there were probably many, but he didn't know how to find them. There was, of course; Diagon Alley, St. Mungo's Hospital for Mysterious Ills and Maladies, and No. 12 Gimmauld Place. Even if he could find that one, he wasn't ready to face the place where he had last seen Sirius alive and happy. Harry also knew that an opening was at King's Cross station at Platform 9 and 3/4s. However, he wasn't at all sure that it would be open given that the school year had passed and wouldn't start again for another two months.

Leaving the bike in a dark alley, Harry pulled his traveling cloak from his sack and put it on, being sure to pull the hood well over his face. He didn't want anyone to recognize him and he didn't want to use magic. He'd never been sure how the Ministry of Magic was able to learn of his use of underage magic, and he didn't want them to be able to track his movements.

Fortunately, there was a lot of activity in the little pub and through the back entry into Diagon Alley. Harry slipped into the street just as the dawn was beginning to peek over the rooftops. He knew that it would take very little for Dumbledore to track him to Diagon Alley and then to Gringott's Wizarding Bank. That wasn't important. What was important was to do it as quickly as possible and stay ahead of Dumbledore until he could find a way to truly cover his trail.

Harry made several trips to the stores along the way and purchased supplies and made inquiries. His first purchase was a hat that fit snuggly over his scar.

"And can you tell me how to get to Godric's Hollow?" he asked the clerk at the coach house. It was evening again. He'd waited out the day in the shadows of Diagon Alley.

"Well young Master," the clerk was eyeing him carefully, "most wizards just apparate. But for those who choose not to, or are too young," he stopped and tried to peek at Harry's face beneath the hood, " and some who don't like the broom, we offer this fine coach service. It'll get you there, but just a might slower. Have you thought of the Knight bus, young lad? Although I must admit it don't go everywhere, s'pecially on country roads." The clerk's voice was oily.

"How much for the ticket?" Harry asked, ignoring the man's probing questions.

"One galleon for the trip, there and back," he said and held out his dirty hand.

Harry, by now, more wise about the wizarding world, knew he was being robbed. Without hesitation, he held the coin over the outstretched palm. "I would hope that this buys me more than a coach ride. I would hope that it buys my privacy." He dropped a galleon into the hand, where it was whisked away out of sight.

The stagecoach stood waiting empty with four tired looking horses. When he climbed in he noticed the seats were worn and the stuffing peeking out in places. It looked altogether very uncomfortable, but he didn't care. He pulled the blinds over the window and he couldn't see the world outside when it began to move. The carriage rocked throughout the night. It grew stuffy in the closed space but Harry pulled his hood around him, crossed his arms over his chest, and closed his eyes.

He knew that he could not ride all of the way to Godric's Hollow, the last place that his parent's had lived. He knew that Dumbledore would find a way to track him, even with the careful planning he was doing. He was ready to leap from the coach and begin making his way on foot by using the map that he had purchased in Flourish & Blott's earlier in the day.

Harry was exhausted, both physically and mentally. He knew that he would be worrying his friends. But after seeing the melted appliances in Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's kitchen, he knew that anyone around him was not safe. And although he didn't like his family, he also didn't want them murdered. Harry gripped the edge of the seat. He didn't think he could survive if he lost another person in his life, not a friend and not even his aunt or uncle or cousin, even if he did loath them.

_No_, he decided,_ it's best if I disappear for awhile_. He wasn't sure what had gone wrong, making his aunt's blood protection ineffective. He puzzled it over in his mind until he grew so weary he fell asleep with the gentle rocking of the horse-drawn coach.

Daylight broke into the carriage. Harry sat bolt upright and grasped his wand more tightly in his hand. He didn't intend to use it unless forced, but he also was not going to be naïve. The door was open and the coach driver stood peering in. "We're stoppin' to change horses if you'd like a breather?" The stooped, wrinkle face man shoved a stool under the door and held it open obligingly so that Harry could step out. "There's food in the pub. Won't be stopping agin 'til we reach East Harton, Castledown Road. Best get yourself sumthin' now."

Harry smelled tobacco and horse as he passed the man.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, bending his face away and taking in a mouthful of fresh air.

"At Crowborn." The man left the door hanging and went up to help the new set of horses be harnessed. "Journey's end will be tomorrow at noon. Best take your stretch now, sir."

Harry noticed they were in a small hamlet with a few houses tucked neatly into the rolling hills. The pub in front of him, called the **Turned Horn** by its swinging sign over the door, was the only place of any size. Its mullioned windows were caked with dirt and a greasy yellow light shone from the open door. Harry could smell rancid ale and could hear the sound of raucous laughter.

He thought better of entering and buying something to eat. When the driver seemed to have the horses ready Harry slipped a galleon into his hand and asked him to bring him a loaf of bread and a flask of water.

The dirty man looked at the coin and grinned, his teeth were blacken and broken. "You best be getting' back in the coach then, good Sir. I'll fetch you your supper and be back in a moment." Harry knew there was enough to buy the man some fire whiskey. And with any luck he'd drink enough that he wouldn't recall Harry's face if asked.

They were on the road for over two hours and he'd been right. The driver had started singing around noon and the coach had slowed, almost drifting as if the horses had been given their head. Harry observed the countryside. They were moving along a well-groomed dirt road that was slowly but inevitably winding into a forest. It reminded Harry of Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest, which brought up visions of Hagrid and Dumbledore. And then what always trailed behind such memories, the feelings of pain and grief.

Harry spent a little time thinking about what he had just done. _I have to promise myself that I won't try and contact any of them_, he told himself. _No matter what_.

The leap from the coach was easy. The driver was too drunk to be aware that the passenger door had opened and the thin young man who had been his passenger leaping into the brush. The horses, groggy with tiredness and the heat, plodded on.

Harry looked around him, pulled off the cloak and gingerly took his first steps into the forest.

A tall, gaunt man dressed entirely in black stood motionless in front of the desk and stared at the man seated behind it. The older man wore a full beard, and both his head and beard were as snowy white as the owl that perched on the desk. They were in an austere room in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"I'm sure Severus. This is Harry's owl, Hedwig. Arthur Weasley sent her to me only this morning. Wizard's were dispatched immediately to Privet Drive and Harry's uncle would not talk to them. They, of course, forced entry and searched the premises. I am certain that Mr. Dursley does not know where Harry is." Dumbledore looked seriously at the man he was addressing.

"Why would you want to send me on this journey, Headmaster?" the man's mild manner was obviously forced. "Throwing us together again would be a mistake."

"I have my reasons, Severus. I had hoped that you could overcome your feelings about James and even about Harry."

"You spoil him Dumbledore. He's grown as arrogant as his father always was."

"And you're blinded by your feelings about James, Severus?" Dumbledore rose to his feet. "Harry has done nothing to you. Must he pay the price for his father's childishness?" Dumbledore held up his hand at the man's attempted protests. "No. I won't hear it. Because you could not overcome your desire to take revenge, you stopped giving Harry occlumency lessons, when I could not do it myself. As a result, Harry was led to believe that Sirius was in trouble. He died and Harry almost died. I tell you this once and for all, Severus, Harry is our salvation. You risk all of our lives when you cannot set aside your own feelings." His voice raised, he continued, "The way to redeem yourself is to find Harry and bring him back here where it's safe."

The dark scowl deepened on the man's face, "I have worked tirelessly for the Order. I have risked my own life many times, Dumbledore," he hissed.

The older man's face, wrinkled with age and tiredness, softened, "Yes, you have Severus. And perhaps, like many before you and many after, you will give your life. Are you ready to do that?"

"I have already made my pledge to you," Severus Snape said, crossing his arms over his chest and gritting his teeth. Dumbledore saw the muscle's working in the jaw and knew that he could push no further.

"Severus, I trust you and believe in your skills. You will need stealth and cunning to not expose him to Voldemort or his follows or yourself to Harry before its time." Dumbledore sank back into his chair and studied the wood of his ancient desk. "Harry will not be easy to find. And this time, I think he will work hard to avoid detection. He is not the boy he was a year ago."

"And you are so sure that he would come back to Hogwarts with me?" The snarl was still on the lips.

"Find him first and then let me know where he is. Do not forget Severus, that it is in both our interests to find him. I, for one, know that Harry needs to have some control back in his life. However, Voldemort will learn soon enough of Harry's disappearance." The tall man flinched at the name and Dumbledore ignored it and continued, " Who would he most likely send to find him?" Dumbledore drew his hands to his temple. "In times of difficulty it would be useful to prove to him that you are on his side, perhaps by even volunteering for the job, if you like." Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Just find him, Severus. Before Voldemort does." The old man got to his feet and shuffled around the desk to lay a hand on Snape's arm. He looked ancient. "Find him for me."

Snape turned on his heel and left the office.

Harry made his way throw the dense forest, the light dimmed as the overhead canopy closed in. It's cooler, he thought, in the shade. He was hoping that he could keep his directions. He didn't want to use his wand and do a Pointing spell. It was one he remembered Hermione had taught him in order to manage his directions during the Triwizard tournament. But he didn't want to use any magic.

He rested in a small circle of sunlight and ate a piece of bread torn from the loaf. I'm safe for awhile, he decided, leaning back to rest. The bread tumbled from his tired fingers and was whisked away by a field mouse.

Unfriendly eyes watched him.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Harry raised his eyelids slowly. He felt a hot breath against his face. His heart leapt when he opened his eyes and focused. Crouching in front of him was a thin small being with butter-yellow hair falling around his shoulders like a cape. It framed a heart-shaped face with cool gray eyes. The face had delicate high cheek bones and an aquiline nose. The cupid lips were firmly pressed together. Harry's eyes were drawn to the ears, pointed and slightly fuzzy with gossamer white hair. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen such a beautiful creature before and wondered if he was in the middle of a dream.

The figure remained frozen, watching him. Harry took in the details of the cloak made in shades of forest colors and the soft deer skin leggings and shoes. The creature held a bow and a quiver full of arrows hung at its back. Harry looked down and saw with rising terror an amazingly shiny knife with serrated teeth pointed at his belly.

"What doest thou in the forest, human?" It breathed. The voice was so musical, Harry thought it came from above; from the breeze blowing through the trees.

"I am lost," Harry mumbled. "I mean no harm."

The being poked at the wand that Harry had carelessly dropped in his lap. "Thou art a wizard... a wand-user."

"Not...not completely. I can't use my wand." Harry remained still, breathing shallow. "What are you?" The creature reminded him of something, but he couldn't place it.

The beauty of the face before him was marred slightly by the frown. "Thou art just a youngling. We cannot kill a youngling. But thou must leave the forest now. Others of my kind...We are called Elves... will find thee and they will kill thee most horribly." The creature sniffed the air and cocked his head to listen.

Harry was enamored by the musical voice and the beauty. Now he understood the slight similarity between this creature and his friend Dobby who was a house elf. Dobby was definitely ugly, stooped and grayish and was hardly caparable to this elegant creature. But Harry also knew after studying him for a few minutes that there was some link between their races. "You're an elf?"

The creature didn't move from his fixed stance. "Yes."

Harry was thinking furiously. "I'm on a journey to find my parent's home."

"Thou hast lost thy nest?" The elf cocked his head in an act that almost looked dog-like.

"Yes." Harry slowly pulled out a map. "I'm looking for this." He pointed.

The elf glanced at the map. It was obvious that it meant nothing to him. The elf shrugged. "We know thee, Harry Potter." The elf withdrew the knife slowly so that Harry could inhale deeply, his hand rising to cover his scar. The elf went on, "The affairs of wizards are not important to us. But we are aware of many things in the world. We claim these forests as our own and evil does not come here." The elf turned slightly. "For that reason we will not kill thee even though it is our custom to kill all humans that enter our lands."

The elf began to move away. Harry thought he had his eyes fixed on the figure and then the dappled light of the shaking leaves and sun obscured his vision enough so that the elf seemed to fade. He heard the voice drifting back to him. "Follow the path, Traveler. We will send you a guide. Do not stray from it and the guide will take thee safely to thy destination."

Harry put his wand in his pocket and got up. He wasn't sure if he'd had a dream or if it was true until, moments later he saw the red fox come trotting towards him from out of the shrubbery.

It looked at him, tongue hanging, panting from its mouth. The white teeth and red gums were visible. It appeared to be grinning at him. Harry shooed at it, advanced menacingly and finally stopped and waited. The animal stood, walked away, came back, yipped, circled and walked back in the same direction. Harry followed. He knew other eyes followed him.

Darkness began to fall quickly as he walked beneath the tall trees and in the shadow of the wooded mountains. The trail was visible although Harry thought he would have quickly lost it without his guide. It gave him peace of mind to just put one foot in front of another and follow the noiseless creature ahead of him.

Hours passed. The full realization of what he had done in the past twenty-four hours finally dawned on him. He'd run away from Privet Drive, changed his identity and was on a journey. He wasn't sure what he was going to find but he knew that he had to keep his friends safe. He knew that he couldn't wait for other people to protect him, when in the end he would have to face Voldemort himself. He had lost trust in Dumbledore. It was clear to Harry that Dumbledore had pretended that he could protect him and in the end he had failed. And Dumbledore had hurt him badly with his lack of trust.

Now he stood in the dark and heard the night forest come alive. Shivering, he drew his cloak from his sack and pulled it around him. He couldn't see the little red fox any longer and thought it best to find shelter from the night. Just off to the side of the deep ravine were a number of hollows wind-forged into the side of the steep hillside. He climbed clumsily over downed timber and roots until he found one that was deep enough for his body.

Curling up in his den with his sack under his head, he fell asleep. No dreams came.

Snape followed the trail easily. He had developed his own form of disguise, leaving the impression, intentionally, that he was the Dark Lord's servant. He kept his inquiries short. "I am looking for a young man with dark hair. He wears glasses and perhaps muggle clothing," Snape inquired always keeping his own features disguised behind a dark cloak. Snape knew how to be menacing. There were a few who quaked visibly at his voice. Rumor spread quickly.

Owls flew on swift wing, back and forth between the Weasley's and Dumbledore's office. A letter from Hermione Granger was so heavy it took two post owls to deliver. Harry had disappeared and a dark stranger was hunting him.

Harry woke in the early hours of the morning smelling coffee and food. He thought he was dreaming. A small twig fire burned near his little den within reach of his outstretched hand and food was set nearby. Shaking the night from his eyes, Harry sipped gratefully from a goblin-wrought silver cup filled with coffee. He put a forkful of the mysterious mixture of stew in his mouth and his eyes widened. He had never had such wonderful food in his entire life and he gobbled it quickly.

He studied the bush that surrounded him and saw no sign of the elf. "If you're out there, will you at least tell me your name," he said aloud.

A movement in front of him exposed the creature. The elf sat cross-legged not more than three feet in front of him under the bough of an immense fur tree. He was so much a part of the natural landscape that looked like the bark of the tree. Harry started. He wondered how the creature could have been so invisible and yet had been before him all the time.

"We are Verillieon," the elf purred, watching Harry finish off his coffee and warm himself at the tiny fire.

"Thank you, Verillieon for my breakfast," Harry murmured quietly, "and for the fire." Harry knew that the elf had saved him from using magic or from going hungry.

The elf sat stiffly sniffing the air, searching the woods as if it were natural to be constantly vigilant. "Harry Potter, thou is being hunted now. Dark creatures enter the forest to find you."

Harry looked around quickly. "Where, who?"

"They are far away. But they are very evil." The elf wasn't looking at Harry. "My people are also dangerous to thee. Thou must travel quickly today and leave the forest before one more night falls." Verillieon stepped back and disappeared. Harry didn't even hear him move through the thatched overgrowth.

Harry packed his cloak, swallowed the last of the coffee and took the cup with him. He put out the fire and covered it with green brush hoping that it could not be found. Glancing quickly around, it appeared to him that he had covered his footprints and the small den area well. He would have liked to use a spell to erase all signs of himself but knew it was risky._ How did they ever find me so quickly? Whose following me? _He wondered.

The red fox reappeared just as Harry finished his cleanup. He talked to the animal as if it could understand him. "I don't know if you know this but your master- if he is your master- Verillieon is a very strange creature. Beautiful, I have to give him that. Not at all like Dobby. But still they are both elves. You couldn't tell me could you?" he asked the fox. "Who's after me?" He stood and stared at the fox. "No I don't suppose you could."

The fox laughed at him with his tongue hanging out and his eyes squinting. He stood waiting patiently until Harry at last finished packing and appeared to be starting out. Then with a flash he turned and headed off into the trees, trailblazing before the human.

Sunlight was just now beginning to drift down through the trees to the forest floor. Harry moved as fast as he could over the rough terrain. The fox had left the trail and was climbing up the slope, along the jagged bluff. Harry was sweating and holding his side as he climbed behind. He hoped that he wasn't being led astray by the animal.

Several hours passed until he recognized that they had returned to some semblance of trail. The breakfast that had nourished him had long since been eaten and Harry was quickly longing for a break and the rest of his bread. He climbed to the top of a narrow band of rock and searched the forest below. He could see the forest stretching before him for miles.

In spite of the yip of the fox, Harry sat on the edge of a rock and took his lunch; a handful of bread and a swig of water from the flask. Chewing slowly, he looked out and let the sun beat on his face. He felt tired and little nervous. He was alone, on his own, for the first time in his life.

Harry could see Ron's face and Hermione once they learned that he had left the Dursleys. They would both be worried and furious with him. He hoped that he would see their faces again and he would be able to return to Hogwarts. It isn't that I want to stay away forever. It's not like I've been given a choice, really. Harry studied the blue sky and the hawk winging its way overhead and then circling.

A body, not heavier than a small animals' suddenly dropped on his back and threw him to the ground. Combined together, the two bodies rolled to the foot of the slope. "Crazy human!" Verillieon extricated himself and pulled away from Harry. "Worse than a muggle!" Verillieon glanced up at the robin-egg blue sky. The hawk was gone. "Doest thou not see that the hawk has eyes. Sitting up there for all to see! Foolish human! The birds, the trees, the grass, all have eyes!" The elf's voice remained soft but edged with fury. Even in the full sunlight, Harry was amazed at the delicate creature in front of him. The waspy elf stood up majestically, his fists clenched. "We can smell thee from a mile away and hear thee crashing through the trees. If we can, so can those that follow thee."

"I'm…I'm sorry," Harry gasped, grabbing his sack and his belongings.

The elf nodded, relaxed and watched Harry politely until he had gathered himself and got to his feet. "We are trying to keep thee alive."

"But why, Verillieon? Why are you helping me?" Harry asked before the elf could perform one of his magical disappearing acts.

"Harry Potter must live," the elf said simply.

Harry stared at the calm face of the creature whose eyes were so large and so deep they were like pools of clear water. He couldn't read the elf's thoughts. _Everyone's trying to keep me alive_, he thought. And then; _everyone but me. _He considered that for a moment. Was he unconsciously sabotaging his own safety. The climb to the rock, exposing himself, was that all a means to an end? Did he want to die? Was he trying to make it easier on himself. _Just let the Dark Lord kill me and it'll all be over, _he contemplated_. Is that what I'm doing?_

If Voldemort kills me, then what? He asked aloud. Harry knew the answer. The wizarding world was doomed. There was no one else that could conquer the Dark Lord.

Harry started walking. No matter how much he wanted the equation to be different, it always came out the same. He continue on in silence, with a heavy heart, knowing that he was putting off the inevitable. He knew people were going to suffer every moment he avoided the confrontation. I'm not ready. Not yet! he concluded. No matter how many lives may be lost, I can't face him yet.

Harry walked cautiously through the forest, trying to muffle his footsteps, remembering the elf's words. He thought of all of the creatures that were in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts and knew that he should be more cautious. There were many animals in the wizarding world that were dangerous. And he supposed that these woods were not going to be any different. For a short time he wished he had not left his Firebolt behind.

The elf did not travel with him, leaving the antics of the crazy furry fox to be his guide.

Snape sat at the table of the pub and dropped more money on the table. The tavern keeper added another full mug to the ones that sat empty in front of the coach driver. "So you do not know when or where he left the coach?"

"No, Gov'na. The boy must've jumped somewhere around Barstill. Jus' glad 'e paid in advance, if you know what I mean." The drunken man laughed garishly. "Too many bloody gits 'oo think they can't get away wit' things fer free, if you know what I mean." He grabbed the full container and a pale white, cold hand covered his to stop the mug from being lifted off the table. The hissing voice whispered, "Legilimens."

A strange vacant expression spread over the drunk's features and drool ran down from the corner of his mouth. His pupils widened and sweat broke out on his brow. "No, no. 'e was dressed in dark blue robes. Very nice ones, they were. 'e paid me and told me that the money was to keep me silence. Didn't say 'is name. Didn't say where 'e was goin' to. I didn't hear him when 'e jumped outta the coach. 'e was jus' gone. Gone. If you know what I mean?" The face went slack and the hand holding the mug trembled.

Snape stood and swept from the room, leaving a gold coin spinning on its edge until it clattered a moment later to the table. The drunk pulled the mug to his lips, spilling it down his chest as he chugged in large mouthfuls. His eyes never left the gold coin that rested on the table.

The hooded figure of Snape apparated to almost the exact spot that Harry had leapt from the moving carriage. The dark eyes studied the ground and spotted a few broken blades of grass and the edge of a boot print in a pool of mud. Snape surveyed the woods and the oncoming twilight. Wrapping his black full-length cloak around him with a dramatic sweep, he disapparated with a Pop.

Somewhere in the deep woods, a lone figure walked, unaware that his Potions Professor was tracking him.

Harry was exhausted and foot weary. The night was coming on and he had not reached the edge of the forest. It took even more energy to stop and listen and look behind him every so often to see if anyone was following him. At last he saw a little stream and stopped to wash his dusty, sweat-stained face. The woods were cooling off, and it would grow cold at night. But at the moment his mouth was parched and he was hot.

The fox stood immobilized across the little stream. Its' head was lowered and it watched him with feral eyes.

"What are you looking at?" Harry asked softly.

The fox raised its head and shook it, cocking it to one side as if to say, 'Speak something I understand.' The yellow eyes followed his hand as he reached into the water and scooped it up to his lips. Harry did it several times, amused at how the fox watched his movements.

Suddenly he heard a noise behind him. Quickly gathering his bag he slid beneath the boughs of a trees and pulled his robe about him. He sat the bare feet of two children followed by that of a horse. The children were talking in a language he didn't understand. They stood in the water and let the horse drop its head and drink.

Harry held his breath, watching. It seemed an interminable time before the two boys pulled on the horses mane and started it moving. Just then a voice, that was familiar spoke. The elf stood in front of the boys. Both immediately dropped to their knees and said something in their own language. The elf, slightly taller than Vermillion nodded and spoke back to them in the same language.

They exchanged words and the elf gestured for the boys to move on. Harry hoped that he was well hidden. He had understood that Vermillion's people would not be happy if they found him.

The elf moved off, disappearing into the summer night as easily as Vermillion had done. Harry stayed beneath the tree and rested.

He woke and found the night dark. Insects serenaded in the tall grass and the little stream gurgled noisily past him. The fox was gone and Harry lay motionless trying to shake off his sleep. There wasn't any way to determine what the time was and he had forgotten his watch in his hurry to leave the Dursleys.

He lay looking out into the darkness. This time Harry knew when the elf was nearby. He wasn't prepared for him to be inches away from his ear when he spoke.

"Thee must not move or speak," the voice cautioned. "We have put a Shielding charm on thee, for there are curse-d Galgaloth nearby. Those thee calls Dementors." The soft wispy touch on his neck disappeared and Harry lay frozen staring out into the dark. His hand was nowhere near his wand and he couldn't risk making a noise to pull it from his sack.

He knew the minute the Dementors were near, for he felt the coldness and saw the darkness deepen. They moved with their rattling breath, drawing ever close, shaking him to the core. He could do nothing. He tried to empty his mind while he waited, feeling sticks and rocks stabbing painfully at his back.

The parchment had very little writing on it and Dumbledore sat back and studied the coal-black wall of the empty fireplace. His mind drifted. Snape had written.

_I have been summoned. I have not found the object that interests you, but I am close, as are others, less friendly then myself. _

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Dumbledore mumbled, his hand passing over his brow unconsciously. He touched his wand to the paper and it burst into flames. He stood and dropped it into the empty fireplace grate and watched it dissolve in flames.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Harry woke up in sunlight. He could smell the freshness of pine sap and the soft branch of pine needles caressing his cheek. He was amazed. He had lain under the bough, listening to (and feeling) the Dementors as they prowled around him. Then as soon as they had gone he'd fallen asleep.

Whatever the elf had done, it was effective. Harry knew the Dementors and their ability to hone in on their prey. Hadn't he fended off over a hundred of them himself when they had swarmed around him, Hermione and Sirius? He shook the thought away. Bringing up Sirius' image was too painful.

Harry rolled out from under the tree and once again washed his face in the cold brook water. This time there was no waiting breakfast or warming fire. He studied the tracks made by the horse the night before and decided that he must have been left on his own. There was no welcoming elf voice or glimpse of a red bushy foxtail. Harry arranged his belongings and started walking down the trail._ I'm going to miss you Verillieon_, he thought.

He walked through the day, stopping momentarily for a drink and then moving again. His plan depended on not using magic. If the Dementors caught him, he would have to defend himself using his wand. It would be all over. The Ministry would find him or the Dementors would try and give him the dreaded 'kiss'. He had no protection unless he used his wand. Even if the Ministry or the Demntors didn't find him it was likely that someone else would; probably Voldemort's Death Eaters.

He walked until he thought he heard the sound of music and laughter. The trees were thinning and the trail widened. Harry stepped cautiously through the trees until he could see objects and moving people. He could smell the fire from campsites and hear the sound of friendly whinnying from grazing horses.

Little children ran unexpectedly around the side of a wagon and towards him, shrieking in laughter. They were almost naked and very brown. They stopped in amazement and stared until one broke away and went calling back to the wagons. Harry searched the woods around him and knew that he had stumbled onto a campsite. He couldn't easily return the way he had come and avoid people.

A man followed the brown boy. He was very small and thin. Harry had never seen a Leprechaun, but had read about them. This man had those kinds of mystical qualities and yet, was very human. The man wore a hat with a wide brim and a vest over a blouse. His face was dark and black eyes twinkled from beneath the hat's brim. A toothpick stuck out from his mouth where a little gold glimmered on a tooth. He wore chains of gold around his neck that picked up the sparkle of the sun. And an immense gold ring was on the middle finger of the hand that was held up to Harry.

He spoke, but Harry did not understand. He knew it was a greeting and the hand offered was a friendly one. Harry touched his own hat in greeting, and said, "I'm sorry I don't know what you are saying."

The children grinned and started talking until the older man shooshed them away with a sweep of his hand and some throaty words. "I speak your English." He stared at Harry's dust-covered clothes and the worn look of his face. "You are welcome into our camp, traveler. We have food. Come!" He turned and walked slowly back to the camp. Harry followed.

As he walked around the corner he was surprised to see the activity of the camp. There were about twenty wagons. All of them were covered with gilded, carved wood and painted trim. People moved about the camp. Women sat and tended cooking pots and nursed babies. There were two men who were doing acrobatics, a man who had a bear that he was talking to. Several men and women were walking on stilts, feet above Harry's head. They stopped to look down at him as he entered the camp.

Harry heard the whoosh above his head and a hand grab his hat. He immediately reached for it and saw a young man suspended above his head, swinging away on a trapeze. People broke into laughter. On his return journey with the swing, the young boy dropped the hat. Harry picked it up and placed it back on his head.

"Who are you?" he asked the thin man. "Are you a circus?"

"Circus?" The dark eyes flashed without understanding. " We are Roma!" The man growled. He crouched near a fire and gestured over at Harry. "Sit, you eat, Gadjo."

Harry crouched and laid his sack carefully near his feet. "Sorry, I don't know what that means."

The man contemplated him for a minute and then his face relaxed. "We are Gypsy. Yes? You understand this?"

Harry nodded. "Yes." A woman wearing long colorful skirts handed him a plate with food. She brought her hand to her mouth and mimicked eating. He took a spoon and slurped hot stew into his mouth and nodded. It was good.

Children of all ages began to gather in a circle around them. Harry looked at all the dark merry eyes. He smiled at them and it sent them scurrying for the woods with shrieks of laughter.

The thin man was joined by another, and then another. Each man of various ages, but obviously the men of the camp. Harry ate slowly and cautiously.

The thin man pointed at his chest where a particularly shiny gold coin hung from a chain. "I am Jolie Pulani," he said. It sounded like he was calling himself, Jolly.

Harry chewed slowly to give himself time to choose a name for himself. He hadn't given it any thought until now. "I 'm Tomas Pane." _Yeah, that will do_, he decided.

The thin man nodded eagerly. "You're a boy. We will call you Tommy." He motioned widely to everyone who stood listening, which included the stilt-walkers that towered over them. He clapped his hand on Harry's back and then pulled out a pipe, filled it, lit it and puffed away.

Everyone went back to their business.

Harry finished his bowl and handed it back to the woman who collected it. He smiled at her to acknowledge his appreciation. Jolie watched.

"Tomas, Tomas Pane, Hmph! Tommy." Jolie pointed at each man in the circle wit the stem of his pipe. "Gregor Melani, Viktor Pushkin, Gopi Badu, and Jamud Perani. My brothers!" When each man heard his name he smiled and nodded. They all wore hats, some sweat-stained at the brim. Each made a little salute as he was named.

Harry nodded in return. Out of the corner of his eye the young man with the bear walked up. The bear was allowed to sniff Harry's ear. "Are you entertainers?" Harry asked.

Jolie understood this word. "Yes, entertainers. Mateo and his dancing bear, Kako." He pointed again with the stem of his pipe. As the trapeze man swung overhead, Jolie pointed towards the heavens, "Janos, The Flying Swan."

"Are you wiz…wizards?" Harry gulped.

Jolie studied him. "Devi?" he frowned.

Harry very carefully picked up his sack and pulled his wand out. The men sat motionless.

Harry nodded, "Devi? Wizard?"

Jolie nodded, looking at the wand. "Yes, wizards." He spoke something to the others.

Harry put the wand back in the pack. He was suddenly tired. The heat of the day and the smoke from the campfire was making his eyes droop. "Jolie?" he pronounced it Jolly, "can I sleep in the shade for awhile. I'll leave soon, but I am tired."

The man smiled. "Yes, yes. You sleep here in the camp. No harms comes to you. Come!" He was on his feet and helping Harry to his feet. The man pulled him over to a wagon where he unrolled a soft quilted bedroll underneath in the shade. Jolie helped Harry pull the sack off his shoulder where there was a minor tug-of-war. Jolie nodded politely at the resistance and let Harry crawl underneath and roll on his back on the soft bed. "Jolie?" he murmured.

"Yes, Tommy." The man was on his knees, pipe in mouth.

"Thank you for the food."

He slept a dreamless sleep. Not even the sound of a guitar playing a haunting song shook him from the depth of his sleep. Gentle hands lifted him and put him in a wagon. The soft lolling cradle deepened his sleep even as the camp rolled down the road the next morning.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Harry woke with a start. His glasses had been removed and he was staring at the inside of the wagon, plush curtains of burgundy and reds and golds surrounding the bed in which he lay. Then he realized where he was. The wagon swayed gently as it went down the road and lanterns rocking from the ceiling were mezmerizing. He fumbled around the bed and the adjoining dresser looking for his glasses. When he had them on he found his hat was placed carefully on a cloth-covered table. His knapsack hung from a hook near the bed. It was then that he realized the wagon was moving.

He rocketed towards the door, banging from side to side and bracing himself on the walls on each side he stared out the back window. There was a similar wagon just behind. A woman was driving the two horses and Harry could see two children sitting beside her.

He reached around, grabbed the hat and his sack and opened the door. They were moving very slowly. He jumped down and slammed the door shut. The day was still mildly cool. He walked beside the wagon undisturbed.

At midday, the small caravan of less than ten wagons stopped. Harry noticed the number had dwindled. Somewhat shy, he joined the men that were lounging near a running creek. Harry noticed that they had left the forest and were now traveling through rolling hills. Older women were busy building campfires while young women gathered firewood and began cooking the midday meal. Children of all ages, some almost as old as Harry, scattered into the hills. A few tended and watered livestock and horses.

Harry saw a young girl nearby hanging wet laundry on tree limbs. She was pretty with her long black curling hair tied in a scarf. She had on a low blouse encircling her shoulders but wore a skirt down to her ankles. Her feet were bare. He thought she must be almost his age.

"Excuse me." Harry started, when she had stepped closer without being aware of his presence. She reacted violently by retreating. Several young men just older than Harry stepped over, anger in their eyes. They were speaking loudly.

From behind Harry heard Jolie's voice. He spoke hurriedly to the young men and they turned and walked away. "Tommy!" He gestured at Harry to follow him.

Harry turned from the men and followed. At one time, he would not have stood and faced the angry faces. He wasn't afraid any more, but realized he was a guest and did not want trouble.

"Tommy, you Gadjo. Not understand. You not go near the women. Yes? You understand?" Jolie watched him carefully. "Women are 'marime'. You see?"

"Yes," Harry said. He didn't see but nodded anyway. "She just wandered into me. We didn't see each other." He stood his ground. "I meant no harm."

Jolie smiled a moment later, "No harm done. Come, we eat." Jolie's arm went around Harry's shoulders and together they went to lunch.

Two weeks later, Harry understood. He was beginning to understand a lot of the gypsy language and rules. He had not been chased away from the Kumpania, what the Romani called their camp, and so he stayed. Harry watched with wonder the skills of the acrobats, and the musicians and performers. He learned that the little troupe would travel the road through the summer, stopping at various hamlets to provide entertainment. Since they were going in the general direction of Godric's Hollow, Harry decided that he would travel with them as a means of providing cover. Jolie was his intermediary and welcomed him into the camp as his guest.

"You are welcome here, young Tommy." The gold tooth gleamed when Jolie smiled. He spoke in Romani.

Harry was learning the language quickly. "Thank you," he responded. The camp did not seem to recognize the scar on his forehead when he forgot to don the hat. For the first time in his life, Harry felt anonymous.

Once again the note was very short:

_The object has been lost to us. All of us. However, a great reward has been offered for its recovery and return. _

Dumbledore examined the words and understood the meaning. Harry had successfully eluded Voldemort and his followers and was truly missing. Snape's coded message was also clear. Voldemort was willing to pay any price to locate the boy. All his efforts were directed to it. And although the wizarding world was panicked, with sightings announced daily of Voldemort's whereabouts, nothing was happening. No deaths, no attacks, nothing.

"Dumbledore?" Arthur Weasley was sitting holding the teacup in his hands.

"Yes, Arthur?" Albus Dumbledore set the parchment aflame as he had done the first one and dropped it into the cold grate.

"Do you think he's alright?" The red-haired man looked worried. "Do you think he made it out of that forest alive?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Oh, yes Arthur. I think he did. Perhaps I haven't given Harry enough credit in the past. But I think he's quite capable of taking care of himself." His voice dropped, " hasn't he proved it time and again?" He said the last almost to himself.

"Yes, you're right, of course. But he's still a boy, Albus. I hate to think of him out there alone and friendless with all of this darkness gathering its' forces against him." The red-haired man cringed.

"You can't imagine how Molly and the children are handling this. Then there's Hermione Granger and Harry's little group of friends from school."

"Oh, I think I can Arthur. Hagrid has almost badgered me to death." Dumbledore smiled sadly,

"As has Minerva McGonagal, and several dozen others who have heard the news. But what are we to do Arthur? If we find him, we can't very well keep him prisoner. And after what happened at the Dursleys, its' very likely Harry believes that no one can keep him safe."

Arthur Weasley nodded reluctantly.

"No… no, Harry has suffered terribly. He needs time to sort it all out and make up his own mind. I think he now knows enough to be doing that." Dumbledore sat down in a chair by the empty fireplace.

"What should I be telling Cornelius Fudge?" Arthur Weasley asked and sat the cold cup of tea down.

"Tell him… tell him, as I have done, that Harry is lost to us too," said Dumbledore and sighed. Arthur Weasley turned away quickly to avoid having to acknowledge the tear he saw running down Dumbledore's cheek.

"Well…well, then," Mr. Weasley said gruffly, choking back his own tears. "I'll just be getting on."

Dumbledore showed him to the gate at the bottom of Hogwarts drive. The day was sunny and warm. "Goodbye, Arthur. I will send an owl if I hear any news."

"Thank you, Albus." The man disapparated.

A bent, tired Dumbledore shuffled slowly back up the drive to the castle. Hagrid stood by his hut and a burning pile of rubbish, watching. He hung his head and felt the sobs erupting from his own throat.

Harry was learning to stilt-walk. Jolie had spent some time building the birds' ribcage that would be suspended from Harry's waist. Harry marveled at the beauty of the costumes. The stilt-walkers wore cages made from slats of lumber that were shaped like birds. Each had a saddle adorning the structure which was actually attached at the hips, it made the walker appear to be riding a large bird. By holding the reins in their hands, the head was moved much like a marionette or puppet. Layers of feathers and embroidered silks and materials were then draped over the framework. The upper portion of his torso, which was supposed to be the actual rider, was also costumed and he wore the garment of an ancient warrior with brass and scrolled leather.

The finishing touches were to decorate the 'rider' and mask them. The overall look was very exotic and magical. As a group, the stilt-walkers would move through the crowd, looking exactly like they were riding huge prehistoric living birds. Harry at first thought they actually were riding a type of hippogriff since the motions were so realistic.

Since being with the troupe, he had been treated as a guest and no one had demanded that he earn his keep. Harry had insisted on earning his way. Not one to be musical, or to fly on a trapeze, Harry had settled on the bird-walkers. He found that it wasn't hard to learn how to walk on the stilts, six feet above the ground.

They arrived in the village towards dusk. This was Harry's first night in the troupe. Jolie was supervising his dressing. He was, himself, dressed in a costume resembling a clown.

"Are you ready, Tommy?" he asked in Romani.

Harry laughed, "What if I fall over?" He'd never thought about it until he felt the twenty pounds of costume being strapped on.

"Don't!" laughed Jolie. "And be aware. Those little children will try and trip you."

Harry nodded, feeling nervous. Gregor Melani was adjusting his bird-beak mask to his face. It effectively covered the glass that had been removed from his glasses and set in the eye holes. He had applied his grease make-up earlier. "Ok, Tommy, show me how you move the chiriklo (bird) head. Let us see if you have practiced."

Harry pulled the reins back and watched the bird's head come up. He twisted it and dipped it to make it lookrealistic. He did it just like he had been taught.

"Yes! Yes! Exactly, very good." Gregor clapped and began to strap on his own bird's harness. "Not to worry, we will astound the crowd tonight."

They worked in the tent. Harry half listened as the people from the village began to arrive.

"Remember, Tommy, you must catch the money they toss. They are poor throwers. Do it like this." Gregor used a quick flick of his wrist and caught the gold galleon Jolie tossed at him. Harry smiled, thinking of Golden Snitches. He wasn't as concerned about catching the gold as he was about not falling off six-foot stilts.

"Throw me one Jolie. Let me practice," he called to the tiny man.

"Not on your life! These are my galleons. Throw me one of yours and I will send it on wings back to you," Jolie shouted as Harry mounted his stilts.

They had teased Harry about being rich. The Kumpania knew rich clothing when they saw it. Although dirty and tired when he had first stumbled into camp, Harry had made the mistake of buying new robes before his trip. He chided himself later for a simple mistake that might have cost him. The people had not pushed him for information. Now, he felt accepted and took the teasing in stride.

"You are not poor Jolie. You're the one whose head hangs down because he wears his heavy gold all around his neck." Harry teased back. It was the custom of the Romani to expose their riches by wearing their jewelry on their persons. Jolie's had been put away for the evening so that the Gadjo (non-gypsies) could not see it.

"Alright boy. Catch!" The gold coin flew the air. Harry plucked it from the air as easily as he had done with the Golden Snitch a dozen times before when he was on the Quidditch field.

"It is mine now. Shame on you for throwing away good gold, Jolie," he laughed delighted at the man that was on the ground. The little man jumped up and started shaking the stilts.

"Whoa, stop, stop!" Harry screamed. He didn't notice when Nadya entered the tent and approached Luciano, their dresser. She whispered in his ear and then glanced at Harry. The young man was very handsome, especially when he smiled.

Harry saw her just as she slipped out. He had learned that men were not allowed to mix with girls beyond a certain age. Allowances had been made because he was young and didn't know the custom. He had narrowly escaped a beating the first time Nadya had accidently run into him on his second day in the camp. Harry watched the slip of her long colorful skirt swish out through the tent. She was also working tonight, dukkering (fortune-telling).

"Tommy," Luciano looked up at Harry. ""Nadya says there is a tall dark stranger looking for a boy with dark hair and glasses. She says he offers money for information." Harry swallowed hard and looked down at the fat gypsy. His handlebar moustache hid the thin line of his mouth but not the expression in his eyes. "You be careful out there, boy. Kushti Bak (Good Luck)."

Harry watched the man turn and leave the tent. Jolie and Gregor's eyes were on him as well. "Keep beside me tonight, Tommy. We walk together," Gregor said and motioned for Jolie to open the tent flap.

They walked out and into the warm summer air. Music was playing and the area was crowded with townspeople. Lanterns covered in colored napkins lit the grounds. Harry felt the butterflies in his stomach, both from having to give his first performance, to knowing that someone was looking for him. A Death Eater, he considered. Then he remembered how the costume provided an excellent disguise and felt more confident as he made his first strides and heard the oohs and ahs from the crowd.

He was at an advantage strolling feet above the heads of the partygoers. The people from the camp provided games and music to entertain. They charged fees for the trapeze artist and the sword swallowers and had pitched tents to attract the people in for fortune telling. Harry was pleased that he caught the gold galleons and bronze knuts that were flung up towards them. The little pouch he carried at his side soon became heavy with it.

They stalked the grounds throughout the evening. Harry began to feel the strain of keeping his balance and the added weight of twenty pounds strapped to his middle. But he was enjoying himself immensely. At one point, he had to grab at a pole to steady himself when he glimpsed a Hogwarts student casually strolling through the grounds with his girlfriend. Seamus Finnigan, a Griffindor student walked oblivious, hand-in-hand with Pavarti Patil another Hogwart's student.

Harry grinned to himself and thought, _Just wait until I get to school. Ron'll roll on the floor laughing. _And then he caught himself, realizing that he might never see Hogwarts again, or his friend. Harry looked down on his friend from school feeling the sadness return. He'd been able to forget the past year, sometimes for days at a time. Seeing the young Griffindor's face in the crowd made Harry realize how far removed he felt from his own life.

"Tommy. Tommy?" Gregor was at his side. He nudged his arm. Harry had forgotten for an instant, that he was being addressed.

"Yes, what?" he gasped.

"Are you alright?" The man whispered in Romani.

"Yes, Gregor, I'm fine," Harry said and nodded weakly.

"It's time you return to the tent. The first night, it is hard. It tires you. Go. Go." Gregor motioned with a free hand.

Harry let go of the pole. He began his long, slow strides back through the crowd, stopping to swing the head of the bird erect for the full effect. He was almost at the tent when he again noticed someone in the crowd. He was a man dressed in full-length black robes. He stood out only for a moment as he made his way through the gaily dressed villagers. Then, he was in shadows.

Harry watched, periodically moving his body in a birdlike fashion. He couldn't tell who the man was with his face hooded. But he knew that danger was close. Carefully, Harry made his way to the tent and slipped into the dark. From his vantage point , he watched. The man did not reappear.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Harry sat under the wagon the next morning with five other wet miserable people. It was raining. The weather matched his already gloomy mood. Glimpsing the dark hooded figure the night before reminded him of his situation. He had been pretending that he was free of the other world; of Death Eaters, and Voldemort, of his family and even of his friends. And now he sat, feeling gloomier than ever.

Tshaya, an ancient old crone and a revered member of the Kumpania wandered out to the smoldering fire. The rain was still coming down in steady torrents. She squatted at the fire and stirred with a stick, lighting her pipe from it's embers.

Jamud shook his head, "she will catch fever."

"I'll fetch her," Harry said. Jamud waved his hand to give permission. Harry knew the old woman was too old be considered off limits. In fact, she was considered as important as the men and was treated with great respect.

"Come along old mother," he said in Romani. "You'll get sick from the rain." She stared at him with cloudy eyes. She had no teeth and white whiskers covered her chin. Harry squatted next to her. He'd never needed to speak to her directly before.

"Jal avree, Chal (Go away, young man)." she said.

"We have room under the wagon," he tried again. "It's dry there and comfortable."

She sat silently and smoked. Harry was getting soaked. She reached over so suddenly that Harry had no time to pull his hand away from her. She twisted his hand over and pressed open his palm with such strength that he gasped. Her eyes were so close to his skin he could feel her hot breath on it. She glanced for a few seconds and then threw his hand back at him. "Dordi!" she exclaimed, and expression that turned Harry's face red with embarrassment.

Harry moved to stand and the iron grip pulled him back. _She is one strong old lady_, he thought.

"I knew it," she said. I have felt it in the air that surrounds you and see it written in your face." Her talon-like hand, blue-veined with age circled his head. "A dark presence shadows you. Someone who loves you searches for you."

Her hand swept over her closed eyes and she screwed up her face. The frown was suddenly creased by a wide toothless smile. "I see a young woman, no, there are two. A girl, who reads books. She searches in the crystal globe for you."

Harry watched the old woman. If she was talking about Hermione, he was stunned. Hermione had given up divination classes at Hogwarts because she was a skeptic. He thought sure that Hermione was desperate if she was consulting a crystal ball. The old woman was fascinating him.

Harry sucked his breath in. He'd seen several of the women in camp with their crystal balls, giving readings to the villagers. He'd learned that their skills were respected and admired by many people.

He watched, remembering Professor Trelawney and her obvious fake predictions. There was a something starkly different about this performance.

"The boy with the freckled face stares out into the dark and calls to you in his mind." Harry shivered. That could only be Ron.

"You will find a way that will kill the Dark Devil," the old woman mumbled. It was clear she was under some kind of spell. Harry swallowed hard. " You will not be with us long, you have a road to travel. At the end of a long road you will see your son."

The old woman opened her eyes and stared at him. He was staring at his palm as if there was literally something written there that he couldn't see. The old woman's pipe had gone out and filled with water. He looked up at her speechless and they sat staring at one another. "Why do you sit in the rain, Stupid Boy?" she growled at him and got up to crawl under the wagon. Harry sat staring at the empty spot she had left and let the rain soak his cloak.

He'd watched Trelawney do something very similar in the past by making a prediction about his future. _Did Tshaya do the same? _He wondered.

He looked over at the people huddled under the wagon and felt his heart throbbing painfully in his chest. He knew that he would miss his friends the moment he went out of his bedroom door at the Dursleys. But he didn't think about how they would feel about him. Would Hermione really be crystal ball gazing? Would Ron be sad, calling out his name in the dark? And who loved him who was looking for him? Dumbledore? Yes, probably. The headmaster had admitted to him at the end of the school year that he cared about him. Dumbledore would be looking and searching.

_You will find a way to kill the Dark Devil_. That's what Tshaya had said. Harry poked at the dying fire. "Please make it true," he wished fervently. And the last, at the end of a long road he would meet his son. _If that's true, then I will survive, _he thought._ And I will have children, I will have a son!_

"Tommy, do I have to send the old woman out for you?" Jamud shouted at him furiously.

Snape turned the glass over in his hands. These were only shards. These were what remained of an old looking glass that had been left in the bottom of Harry's trunk. He searched the other things that he had taken away with him. Books, Quidditch robes, odds and ends; even Harry's cauldron, the one he used his potion's class.

Snape's hands drifted back to the photo album. He hadn't opened it, dreading what he would find. He had been in Harry's mind the year before when he had attempted occlumency lessons with the boy. The visions were scattered initially, but vivid. And then Potter had been able to put up a stronger defense until Snape could no longer reach in so easily. The boy's memories were painful to Snape. Some were similar to his own experiences growing up.

He need more clues, something else to follow and so he went back to pouring over the boy's belongings, avoiding the ablbum.

Snape knew that if he opened the album he would see James Potter and Sirius Black and Lillian Evans. Perhaps others. Those would be his memories, too; his own painful memories of Hogwarts. Snape knew that he must find Harry Potte rbut he was caught serving two masters. The Dark Lord and Dumbledore each pressed him to work harder. There were moments when he didn't know which would be more dangerous, a man who loved or a man who hated.

Snape reached over and picked it up and opened the album.

Harry asked Jolie, "I want to send a letter to a wizard, Jolie. I noticed that your people don't use owls. I don't want anyone to be able to find me." Harry gritted his teeth. He hope that he had been with the Kumpania long enough to trust the tiny man.

"Yes, yes. We can do this," Jolie said pondering the problem. "We will be near a village soon. I will go with you to mail this letter. Two of us, dressed as Romani. We will not draw attention."

"Are you sure, Jolie? It could be dangerous," Harry said. "There are very dangerous people who are looking for me. People have… died because of me."

Jolie exposed his golden tooth in a grin, "It will take a clever man, then, to do this thing." He thumped his chest and twisted the curl in his moustache. "I am your man."

Harry nodded. Secretly, he worried about the danger. He thought about the rest and peace he was finding staying among the Rom. He shivered at the thought of bringing danger to these people.

The little man clapped him on the back and offered him a pipe. Harry shook his head and smiled feebly.

"Are we not masters of disguise?" Jolie asked seriously. Harry couldn't answer. "It will be alright."

"You can't understand what you're saying." Harry sighed in despair while the little man studied him with deep soulful eyes but remained silent.

A week later Harry and Jolie dressed and started the walk to town. The children of the camp followed them for a short distance and they were met by the young girl Nadya and her mother, Katlana, halfway.

"What are they doing with us?" Harry asked Jolie in English.

"They are our disguise. They go to shop. We go to protect them. The people in the village expect this," Jolie said brushing aside Harry's concern.

"Jolie, I couldn't live with myself if something happened." The girl, Nadya heard him.

"Tell the Gadjo boy that we are strong women and not afraid," she said to Jolie in Romani. Harry knew that she was aware he understood her. He was surprised at the courage expressed in her words.

"Why do they do this for me, if I am Gadjo?" Harry asked, the question pointed in her direction. He watched her profile, the chin stuck out in defiance. He knew it was taboo to speak to her face.

The older woman who was her mother spoke, "Tshaya says that Nadya must do this for her husband-to-be."

"Her what?" Harry stopped. The girl's face flushed, more in anger than embarrassment.

"Enough mother!" Nadya Vloyski shook her mane of black hair and tied it up in a scarlet bandanna. She twisted a large loop earring into her ear and tied an apron around her middle. She was readying herself to go to town. The dark eyes slowly looked up into his face. And he felt a shaft of fire shoot through him like lightening. For a moment he couldn't catch his breath.

Jolie caught the look on Harry's face and took his arm to drag him up the road. "Don't get ideas, young one," he said speaking in English. "Tshaya is old woman and goes lame."

Harry laughed at the way Jolie described the old woman's possible lapse into senility the way he would describe one of his horses. "Goes lame?"

"No Roma girl marries a Gadjo. They would be sent from the Kumpania." Jolie frowned and pushed Harry ahead. "Come we have a job to do."

Harry wanted very much to tell Jolie that he wasn't ready for marriage. Not to Nadya or anyone else. He'd only just kissed a girl at Hogwarts, Cho Chang, two years ago. No matter how pretty, Harry knew that he had to be careful. The Romani were a people that he had only just begun to know.

The post office was easy to find. Jolie asked Harry to follow his lead. They wandered in and studied the rows of owls lining the walls. It appeared that Jolie was examining each owl in turn. Harry wanted to scream at him to hurry up and choose and get the bloody hell out. Several people wandered in looked at them curiously and wandered out.

"Jolie…" Harry hissed through clenched teeth.

Jolie picked out a plump barn owl and Harry dropped money on the counter and tied the parchment to the owl's outstretched leg. The owl took off through the open roof vents and was gone. Harry was ready to sprint to the door, but Jolies stuck a toothpick into his mouth and sauntered towards the door. It was all Harry could do to not put his hand in the little man's back and shove him.

"Calm yourself, Tommy," he said in Romani, "we are going." They met Nadya and her mother outside the apothecary shop. Nadya pretended to be studying the dragon's liver on sale in big stinking lumps outside the door. Flys covered the chunks and the smell wafted through the sun-baked air creating a fetid stink around the door.

Harry continued to feel nervous. There was something or someone nearby. He could feel it. "Jolie. We need to leave. Something's wrong." Harry nudged the man in the side as he pulled his hat down further on his forehead. He checked his vest to make sure the padding they added earlier to make him look larger was still in place.

"I'll be back Tommy."

"What?" Harry screeched in a whisper. The little man disappeared into a pub next door, leaving Harry alone with Nadya. In the glass of the shop, Harry glimpsed a black robed figure approaching from down the street. "Nadya, there is someone that must not see me." He felt panic rising.

She glanced over his shoulder and nodded, "Go. I will take care of this." With a swish of her hips she walked around him and headed up the street towards the dark figure. "Dakkur, en mesh da? (tell your fortune)." The girl was transformed into a woman. She smiled graciously and swished her hips towards the stranger who stopped. He looked like a big black crow standing tall over her.

Snape stopped, looking down at the young girl. He knew that she could be no older than the students he taught at Hogwarts. She was a gypsy girl, dressed too garishly and barefoot.

"No, thank you," he said firmly.

"You have a long life line in your hand. Perhaps reading the cards for you." Her hands slipped easily into a pocket and withdrew her tarot cards. Her head came to Snape's chest and she stretched on tiptoe to smile charmingly in his face. She spoke the only English she knew.

"No. Leave me." Snape said shoving her aside.

Harry watched from the alley. He watched the man roughly shove Nadya aside and continue up the street. It made Harry angry. He wanted to step out and confront the rude behavior. Nadya shrugged and ran across the street and towards the alley. She didn't seem harmed or even disturbed.

Harry was furious when Jolie joined them in the alley. "What the devil was so important, Joli? I thought you were here to help me!" The tiny man nodded and urged them to move quickly out of the village. Nadya and her mother followed more slowly behind them until they were left in the distance.

"You are angry with me, Tommy?" Jolie spoke seriously. "But there was a man in the pub that stared at you with great interest. It seemed he recognized you."

"Did you know him?" Harry frowned.

"No," he said and shook his head.

"Can you describe him?" Harry hurried behind the fast walking man.

"Yes. He had shining white hair. Like a horse's mane. It went to his shoulders," Jolie gestured with his hands. "He was a rich man and used a cane with a serpent on the top."

_Malfoy!_ Harry shuddered. _It had to be! He's out of Azkaban_. "What did you do?" he asked.

"I went in and bought him a drink," Jolie said shrugging. "I answered his questions. He thought he could talk to this stupid poor gypsy and get information."

Harry was horrified. He knew from experience that being anywhere near Lucius Malfoy was a dangerous game.

"What?" Harry looked behind him at the road. Was Malfoy behind them? "Where is he, Jolie?"

"I put a potion in his drink. He fell asleep at the bar. The owner thought he was drunk and had him removed. He's sleeping it off somewhere in his room at the Inn." Jolie sneered.

"We must get back and get the wagons hitched," Harry said hurrying ahead. "This man that you put to sleep will come awake and he will find you and your family. He will kill all of you without thinking twice." He was almost running. "Jolie!" Harry screamed over his shoulder.

The man caught up and grabbed his arm. "He will not remember any of it."

Harry slowed and looked the man in the eye. "Are you sure?"

Jolie crossed his heart and swore, "You are safe, Harry."

That stopped him. The two stood in the road with the sun setting slowly in the west.

Harry dropped his arms to his side. He felt weak with relief and fear. This was too close, he thought.

Snape walked the streets of the small village and chewed his lip in a fit of unusual frustration. He had not found the trail. He stood in the darkened street away from the lamplight and meditated. He had seen Malfoy earlier and made sure that they did not encounter each other. He'd seen him standing at the bar talking to a small, thin man dressed in the same ragged clothes as the young gypsy girl had worn.

Snape swore under his breath. The girl had been on the street with a younger man before she approached him. The young man had acted strangely and it suddenly seemed clear the girl had acted to protect the boy. Could it be? he pondered. Every trail must be followed.

The tall dark figure, dressed in a floor length, black cloak in mid-summer, walked through the empty street.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The owl perched on the window and waited patiently until the man opened the pane. He untied the strings attached to the owl's leg, detached the parchment and unrolled it while the owl took flight into the night air. The contents so stunned the man that he stepped back into the room and fell into a chair.

"Good Grief! He's still alive!" Remus Lupin exclaimed as he sat at No. 12 Gimmauld Place and glanced at the empty fireplace. _How can I get word to Dumbledore? _He propelled himself from the chair and raced to the basement kitchen of the house. Five faces turned to him in surprise. Molly, Arthur, Ron and Ginny and Bill Weasley sat eating supper.

"What is it Remus?" Arthur Weasley reached his side, concerned at the look on his ashen face.

"I've got a letter from Harry!" Lupin gasped as his legs gave way and he again dropped to a chair.

The kitchen was astir with excitement. It took a minute for Remus Lupin to read the parchment.

_Dear Professor Lupin_, Lupin choked and shook his head. _I'm writing to let you know that I am alive and well. I am sorry if I have caused anyone worry. _(There was a collective groan from his listeners.) _I needed time to sort out my life. After what happened at the Dursleys, I was afraid that no one was safe. You have to know that I could not face anyone being hurt on my account again. _

_I am also writing to let you know that I have not made up my mind about returning to Hogwarts in September. There is something I must do. I hope it can be accomplished before then. This is not something that you or anyone can help me with. If you believe that I am acting a martyr, ask Dumbledore. He would agree that this work is for me and me alone. _

_Let him know that I'm not angry with him anymore. He will understand._

_All of you are constantly in my thoughts. I will try to send word to you again. Tell Ron to keep practicing Quidditch, Gryffindor needs a good keeper. Tell Hermione, I will have lots to tell her about when I return 'home' . I miss them both, a lot._

_Harry_

_P.S. Remus, I'm sorry that you have lost your best friend. I know we both miss him terribly._

Bill Weasley took the paper gently out of Lupin's hand. He read it quickly. "I will take this to Dumbledore tonight if that's alright with you?"

Remus nodded, fighting back the strong emotions that he feared were fighting to get out. His eyes rested on Ron Weasley and then Ginny and over to Molly Weasley. They were all sitting very quietly and tears were in their eyes.

Bill slipped from the room and out through the door into the night. A few streets away he disapparated. Back in No. 12 Gimmauld Place a riotous party was underway.

Harry settled into the soft comforter rolled out near the wagon. The light from the fire was dimming as it slowly died back. The camp was silent. Even the dogs were asleep. Harry couldn't get the worry out of his mind. _Malfoy. So close!_

Harry wrapped his sack into a pillow and pulled his hat over to him. He lay, waiting, until he heard snoring and then rolled out of the comforter. He moved out of the light of the campfire and was dressing in his traveling cloak when he heard a hissing behind him.

He turned and saw a lit match applied to a smoking pipe. It illuminated Jolie's face. "Where are you going Harry?" he asked.

Harry shrugged and straightened his robe, his hands shaking from the sudden fright. He was holding his wand under his cloak and had been about to use it. _How does he know my name? _

"Do you have time to sit and talk for awhile?" Jolie asked as he puffed away at the pipe. "Come let us move away so that others may sleep." He rose from the back of the wagon that he had been leaning on and gestured into the dark. Harry followed him and they walked through a meadow, the dewy grass wetting their feet. Horses grazed nearby and he could hear a thud now and again as they moved around and a hoarse cough or two.

Harry discovered that Jolie led him to a sandy cove next to a small lake, where he could see the faint red embers of other pipes that were lit. In turn, he could just make out the figures of Gregor, Luciano, Jamud, Janos and several of the boys his age, Michala, Bond and Lacretia sitting cross-legged on the ground.

"Harry, sit and converse with us," Jolie said in English. His tone was serious and there was a hint of authority in it.

Harry wasn't sure whether he was angry or not. He just felt stunned. "What… what are you all doing here?"

Jolie spoke for the men, "We know who you are, Harry. We want you to hear our story so that you may understand why we sit here tonight." He had dropped to the ground alongside his friends.

Harry removed his cloak and dropped his belongings to the ground. It would be horribly disrespectful to turn away from the people who had sheltered and cared for him for so many weeks. He nodded to Jolie, and then to each man sitting in the circle.

"Some of us are old enough to remember the Dark Devil that ruled the world. He is called _Kalo Beng _in our words," Jolie began. "It was before you were born. The time of this Evil Wizard is called by our people, "The Great Devouring". He was like a wolf with big teeth and a big hunger." Harry listened with dread knotting his guts.

Jolie struck another match, and Gregor broke in. "We are a people that have no roots, but we are an ancient people. Our home is the road, it is our baxt (our nature), the way things are meant to be. Hai'shala? (Do you understand?). Gregor asked. We have our own ways."

"Va (yes)." Harry answered, somberly.

"The Dark Devil, the Vyusher (the wolf) wanted to enslave us. But first, he wanted to fool us into believing that he was our friend. He came among us like a wolf dressed in a lamb's skin. He wanted to learn of our mysteries- our gifts." Gregor waved a hand. "These are not easy things to learn from the Rom. We have, for many centuries, learned to distrust the Gadjo. So we led him to believe that he had learned our ways. We are clever and we sent him from us. Later, we learned we were right to not trust him. He sent wizards to kill us. Many died believing in his lies; my parents and my sister."

Jamud spoke in the dark, "My whole family."

"My wife and children," Luciano growled.

"So Harry Potter, there are many Rom who have lost loved ones because of this Dark Wizard." Gregor continued. "We gathered our brothers as one and fought him. We swore the kal'enedral (blood oath) to avenge the deaths of our dearest. We have many ancient charms and spells and magic that the outside wizards know nothing about."

Jamud opened his hand and a flames leaped from a ball of light. It lit the small circle of faces. Each man glared at it and Harry could see the anger in their faces. Jamud extinguished the small flame with a flick of his wrist. "Yes, even this Black Devil, who comes from the Gadjo could not know what he faced with the Rom."

Jolie had remained silent while the others talked and cut in, "We do not talk lightly of this to you, Harry Potter. To speak of the dead is forbidden among our people." Jolie said this in English and then returned to Rom, "You must follow your own road, Harry. If you leave us, we will let other Rom know and there will always be a shelter for you among our people. You are destined to be the knife that cuts out this Devil's heart!"

"How…how do you know that?" Harry asked breathless. It was obvious they were talking about Dumbledore's prophecy.

"The Rom have many among us that can see the road ahead," answered Jamud. "Lucretia?"

"Yes, Jamud?" The young boy who was sitting back, answered. He resembled Harry with his dark unruly hair and slim body. They were almost at the same age and yet there was a wildness about the boy, like a forest animal, untamed.

"Tell us of your dream," Jamud said.

"Harry meets and talks to a dark stranger. They know one another, but they do not know what is in each other's heart." Lucretia held his palm over his own heart. Harry could see the boy staring into the dark as if envisioning a scene before him. "Kai zhalo vurdon vurma mekela (where the wagon goes a trail is left)," he said.

Harry could not follow the Romani words and Jolie translated. "It means that this dark figure follows you, searches for you. He has found your trail. That trail will lead him here to you and to us."

"Is it…is it, the Dark Devil, Kalo Beng?" Harry gulped, thinking to himself, _I'm not ready, I'm not ready for him yet._

"No," Lucretia answered and shook his head. "This one means you no harm. But he's important to you and your journey." The boy grew silent.

"Let us continue with this story so that it may be spoken whole and then ended," Victor growled in the dark.

"Yes," Jolie nodded. "We are telling you Harry that if you stay with us, we can protect you and we can help you. We have sworn it! You are a young man and, we think, not ready to face this evil wizard."

"We can teach you," Jamud began.

Luciano, the fat little dresser who had quickly become a friend, addressed Harry. "We can not keep you here with us Chav (dear boy). Jamud is right, many of us have the gift of Seeing. I, for one, know that you have many trials ahead of you. You are young and we think that you will have the strength that is needed someday. We could teach you what you cannot learn in the Gadjo world and when you are ready we will send you on the road, where someday we will meet again." Luciano puffed on his pipe. The glow of the embers shining red on his heavy jowled face.

Harry looked from face to face and felt their concern for him. "But I am Gadjo," he said in surprise.

Jolie smiled, "Na rakesa tu Romanes? (can you speak Romani?)"

These were words, Harry would hear time and time again and never forget. The small group of men were saying that he was one of them. Harry felt tears in his throat.

"Jin? (Understand?) Jolie whispered. "You are Roma in your skin."

"Yes," Harry answered.

"By saving you, we save ourselves. In turn you will save us. Are we not all brothers? Na rakesa tu Romanes?" They murmured together.

Harry was glad it was dark and the men could not see him. He wasn't sure that looking back into those eyes might not start an avalanche of tears in his own.

They sat in silence until the night seemed to get lighter and dawn approached. The pipes went cold and one by one each man stood, walked by Harry, put their hand on his shoulder and wandered back to the sleeping camp.

Jolie was the last to go. "We will arrange a meeting with this dark man that follows your trail," he said, and then he was gone, leaving Harry sitting stiffly in the sand watching the sun rise over the lake.

Dumbledore held the parchment in his quaking hand. He sat alone in his room, a glorious feathered Phoenix perched over his shoulder, trilling quietly. The paper slipped from the old man's fingers. _It is enough, Harry_, he thought, _to know that you are alive_. _But thank you for your words of forgiveness. _Dumbledore smiled and sat looking out the window at the same dawn.

They spent a day on the road and Harry rode in the wagon to keep himself hidden. They passed out of the valley and away from the small village where he had seen Malfoy. Harry knew from reading his map that they were headed in the direction of Godric's Hollow. Somehow, fate was leading him where he knew he should be.

He wasn't sure what Jolie and the others were up to, they were very stealthy. He knew that they would arrange the meeting with the stranger the following evening. Harry couldn't think who might be following him if it wasn't a Death Eater or one of Voldemort's followers.

Putsha, Viktor's wife, opened the door at noon. She motioned for him to come out. The midday meal was being prepared. Harry followed the small children down through a lush meadow and found a pool of water. The horses had been set free and were grazing on the knee high grass.

Harry looked into the calm water and stared. He saw his own reflection and had to laugh. Jolie had placed a charm on his hair to change the color to soft brown. Harry had long since used the new glasses he had found in a Gadjo village. These half-cut glasses set on the edge of his nose and gave him an old man's appearance. The hat that he always wore covered the lightening scar. He wore the diklo (scarf) that all Romani men wore, the vest and the blouse tucked into leather bitches. He had to grin. He didn't think even Hermione or Ron would recognize him this way.

"Tommy?" one of the small boys came to kneel beside him.

"Viktor says that I should help you." The boy was about ten. He studied Harry with a serious expression on his face.

"How should you help me, Ruben?" Harry asked curiously.

Ruben opened his mouth and went, "Caw, Caw." Out of the blue sky a shadow circled. Harry glanced up and saw a gigantic black raven circle and light gently on the boy's shoulder. It looked to weigh about ten pounds. The boy reached up and fed it something from his hand.

"Who is this Ruben?" he asked. He smiled at the small boy and studied the large bird on his shoulder.

"He is Dante," the boy replied. He looked straight at the yellow eyes and the very sharp beak that was very close to his face. The boy didn't appear to be in the least bit afraid. "I have trained him."

"Trained him to do what?" Harry asked.

"To carry the post for you," Ruben answered. "Watch." He removed the bird from his shoulder to perch on his arm. In English, he said, "Dante. Mail Deliver." The bird stuck out it's leg. Ruben tied a small bag on it.

"Kel the bosh, kel the bosh, (play the fiddle, play the fiddle)," the bird squawked.

"It talks, Ruben!" Harry burst out in surprise

"Yes." The boy nodded, still serious. "I have trained him to talk. He talks only in Romanes." He held the bird up and it took off. "Now wait," he said. Minutes went by.

Harry looked at the boy and smiled to himself. Ruben was not much younger than he had been when he had started at Hogwarts. Harry wondered if he had been as smart. _Was I ever that young? _Harry wondered.

Suddenly, from across the meadow, a little girl came running to them. She held the bundle in her hand. "Dante sent this," she said, and handed it to Ruben.

He turned to Harry and handed him the bundle. "See. It is proof. He has delivered the mail."

"That's very good Ruben," Harry said seriously and accepted the bundle. He thought about his own mail deliverer, Hedwig, the white owl that he had not seen now for over two months. The bundle reminded him of something. "Do you know Ruben that this is the best present I have ever gotten on my birthday."

The next afternoon, Jolie instructed him to follow a small creek that wound into a wooded area. The men in camp had prepared the meeting. Harry was mildly anxious and curious as to who he would be meeting. He knew that Gregor and the others were keeping watch and would move against the stranger if Harry gave any sign that he was in danger or needed help. Harry felt perfectly safe.

It was growing late in the day, the sun was still up and the spot was shaded. Harry walked slowly into the circle of trees. Two men stood at the side of the man dressed all in black. Harry took in the greasy long hair and the black eyes. It was Snape.

"Hello, Professor," he said quietly. He wasn't altogether surprised.

Snape glared at him.

Harry nodded at the two men who stood nearby. They moved off into the shade of the trees and left Harry and Snape alone.

"So you've found me, Professor." Harry said and casually sat down on a log, watching the man. Snape was still standing and glared down at him as if had so often done in the classroom.

"Yes, I have Potter," Snape said, stonily.

Harry asked, "What do you want?"

Snape looked at the transfigured boy. He had grown, changed. There was a new look on the face. "I want nothing Potter. It was my job to find you. That was all."

"And whom do you serve, Professor? Did you find me for Voldemort or for Dumbledore?" Harry watched the black eyes. He saw the small wince at the mention of Voldemort's name.

"Why do you insist on using that foul creature's name?" Snape hissed. " For your information, Potter, I have been sent on this errand by both of them."

Harry nodded politely. "I see."

"Who are your thugs, Potter?" Snape motioned with his head to the two men standing outside in the trees.

"You know, Snape," Harry stood up, "I'm not here to exchange nasty words with you. It's too exhausting. You see I don't care about you're little grudge that you carry around about my father and Sirius." Harry could see Snape stiffen even more. "You know it seems strange that a grown man would have to do that." Harry said, shaking his head. "After all they are dead, Severus. Shouldn't we let them stay dead?"

"Who are you to lecture me?" Snape's voice rose. "You're arrogant Potter. Big-headed…"

"You forget you are not in a classroom Professor, nor are you my teacher right now." Harry stood straight and glared into the black eyes. "Didn't Dumbledore tell you? The prophecy; kill or be killed? That is my destiny. I either kill Voldemort or he kills me." Harry watched the information sink in. "Do you bloody well think I care squat about you and your trivial grudge!" Harry spat the words at the man, his spray of spittle shining on Snape's face. "Or how you feel about me?" Harry glared back, murder in his heart.

Snape blanched.

"You leave here alive on my orders, Snape. I can return you to Voldemort or Dumbledore. My choice. Maybe you'd like to know what it's like to be in my shoes."

"I do know what it's like to be in your shoes, Potter." Snape said.

"Do you? Do you really?" Harry asked.

"I have faced the Dark Lord myself. Many times," he said it softly.

Harry stood back, calming himself. "It didn't cure you of being an arrogant git as you so much like to point out that I am." Harry pondered the man in front of him and remembered the hours spent in his classroom. The way he had favored his own students and had badgered Gryffindor's. "Perhaps I should take a page from your book, Professor. Perhaps it's time for you to learn a few lessons about being a bully!"

Harry left the small woods and left Viktor and Jamud alone with Snape. He sat in the fading sun and let his heart slow down. He had not felt this angry in a long time. And he knew that he could not be around Snape.

Harry sat and watched the horses. Snape was going to be important to him in some way. The boy, Lucretia had prophesized it. _These bloody prophesies!, _Harry frowned. _Is there no free will in the world? Is everything already laid out and you just follow your life like a goose follows a trail of corn? _He shook his head in anger. _Not this time!_

He got to his feet and walked back to camp.

The men brought Snape into camp later. He had been redressed, his black clothing taken away. Now he sat out of the light of the campfire, resting his back against a wagon wheel. Harry ignored him and ate his supper.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Harry tied the parchment to Dante's leg and prayed that the bird would know what to do. Voldemort's followers would never expect a raven to carry the post. They would, however,

intercept owls. Harry felt it was safe for the moment, if only the bird was able to carry out its mission.

"Dante. You must deliver this to Dumbledore. He is at Hogwarts. Do you understand?" Harry spoke clearly. _Do ravens understand the same way owls do? _he wondered. "Go!"he ordered.

"Arakhav o drom (find the road)," Dante squawked and took flight. Harry watched with a sinking heart. _Please, please don't get lost_._ Take it to Dumbledore._

The raven circled the camp twice and then shot off into the twilight. Harry watched until he could no longer see the black speck.

Dumbledore looked better than he had for weeks. Hagrid stood in the headmaster's office watching him. He had heard the news that Harry was alive. He was even feeling better himself.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore, sir?" Hagrid smiled. "I'd do anything fer you 'n Harry. You know that."

"Yes, yes, I know you would Hagrid." Dumbledore smiled. "It seems our young Harry is keeping our Professor Snape safe for the time being." He looked at a parchment laying on his desk and

smiled again. "But, it's only fair that Harry's friends know that he is well. So, you may pass that information on to them when you visit the house."

Hagrid nodded, "I'll do that."

"We won't concern them with the rest of Harry's plan right now. I believe only a select few should be aware of all of our plans, Hagrid." Dumbledore said. He handed him a sealed letter.

"Just Remus and Arthur, I should think. There, that should explain it."

Hagrid pocketed the letter and left the room.

Harry sat facing Snape. He had just finished with his lessons with Jolie and Gregor. They were teaching him how to send messages to other Romani and as always, Harry was amazed. They

showed him the various ways they would lay rocks alongside the road, or tie pieces of cloth onto the weeds alongside the road. Each was a sign and symbol that represented their message. Once

seen, it was passed on to other Gypsies that traveled the road. Ultimately, it reached the chosen subject and sometimes it did so very quickly. "I have to know where we stand, Mr. Snape." Harry said to the man. Snape had been compliant and quiet over the past few days and it was making Harry nervous.

"Well, Mr. Potter." Snape addressed him coolly, but politely. "You can't expect me to talk to you openly if I am to be a prisoner. What does it matter if I am a prisoner to you or to the…other. The

results are the same, I am still a prisoner. And that hardly engenders trust, don't you think?"

"I realize that you're not afraid of me, Professor. Nor are you afraid of the people here. We have both faced something many times worse," Harry murmured, sipping at his tea. "I know that

Dumbledore trusts you and you are a member of the Order of the Phoenix, but you'll have to forgive me if I don't put a lot of faith in that." He was thinking of his attempt to save Sirius and

Snape's failure to help them when they needed it the most.

Snape nodded and continued to stare at Harry, his dark eyes penetrating and steady.

"What I need to know is that you will also work for me, or at least stay out of my way if you can't bring yourself to be on my side." He hesitated and then went on, "I need to know that you

wouldn't give me up." Harry said it and then proceeded with more caution. "I believe that you are an asset that shouldn't be wasted by keeping you here. I think it's dangerous to allow the Kalo

Beng..." he glanced at Snape, "Voldemort... to believe that his trust in you has been compromised."

"Really, Mr. Potter. I am touched at your concern," Snape said. However, the usual sarcasm and sneer in his voice was absent.

"Why do you do that?" Harry asked with disgust.

"Do what, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked his eyebrow raised.

"Never mind!" Harry snapped and threw the remains of his tea into the fire.

"Lucius Malfoy very nearly found you out," Snape said. "I have to admit that staying here with these gypsies was very clever of you. I had a very hard time finding you myself."

"You know Snape, that you would never have found me. The Rom," he emphasized, "would never have let you get near me."

Snape nodded in agreement and said, "It's true that it was luck that I spotted you and put two and two together. But if it happened once, it can happen again. The Dark Lord is getting impatient.

He wants you and he wants you badly. He will not take any action that exposes his whereabouts until he knows what to do with you." Snape mused, almost to himself, "I believe you would say

he has learned patience."

"Kalo Beng is not aware of the entire prophecy, Snape. He's not aware that he'll have to do the dirty job of killing me, himself." Harry said. "He can send as many of his Death Eaters as he

wants. In the end he will have to come for me in person."

"Is that your plan?" Snape's asked curling his lip into a cruel smile. "To trap him into coming to

you?"

Harry stared into Snape's face and said, "I have no plan, except to stay alive." He sorted his thoughts out before continuing, "And to try and keep as many of my friends alive as possible

along the way."

"You may not believe this, Mr. Potter, but Hogwarts is really the safest place for you. Even these people you call Roma, cannot offer as much protection." Snape glanced around him at

the naked, dirty children playing in the dirt. The camp was as busy as usual. Harry could read the contempt in his eyes.

"That may be true, Professor, but these people saved my life. They are my family now. I may return to Hogwarts or I may not. The choice somewhat depends on you." Harry watched the

children and turned back to Snape.

"And what pray-tell do you want of me, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked looking back.

"To help me delay the inevitable," Harry replied.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Dante reappeared with a letter strapped to his leg. The bird landed and strutted over to Harry at the camp site.

"Mail deliver," it croaked.

"Thank you, Dante." Harry said, laughing as he untied the note. He looked up to watch the bird sitting and staring at him. "You may go," Harry said. The bird remained, cocking its' head and watching. "Oh well, serve yourself." He wasn't sure what things he could give a raven as a treat. Ignoring the bird, he unrolled the parchment and read Dumbledore's note.

_Dear Tommy,_

_I am so pleased to hear from you._

_Yes, I would love to accept your invitation to the Fair in Godric's Hollow on the 19th of August. I haven't been to one in years. I will most certainly bring the rest of the family._

_I hope our dear friend is enjoying his stay with you. Be sure to put him to work. I know he doesn't like following orders but tell him for me, it is what I wish._

_Farewell, I hope to see you soon. We all send our love._

_A._

_P.S_. _I am especially happy to meet Dante_

Harry grinned at the letter and spoke to the bird, "Albus says hello, Dante."

"Grozno (ugly old man), Albus. Grozno," Dante danced on his orange little legs, dipped his head and then took off.

Harry laughed until tears welled from his eyes.

"What is it, Tommy?" Jolie asked, as he entered camp.

"Nothing, Jolie, nothing," Harry grinned and read the letter again.

Katlana Vloyski, Nadya's mother, had taken over the job of Harry's mothering. She handed him a clean shirt one morning. "It's time that we pierce your ear, Tommy."

"What?" he asked in surprise. He was eating her cooked rabbit.

"Yes. The man, when he reaches your age, he has his ear pierced." Katlana had a rather large looking needle in her hand and had cut a potato in half. She meant to run the needle through his ear lobe and into the potato.

Harry looked over at Viktor, who shrugged and continued eating his own stew. Katlana advanced.

"Whoa, whoa. Just a minute!" Harry mumbled through a mouth full of potatoes and stared at the needle. He noticed that Katlana had been sewing with it and hadn't bothered to wash it. Taking it from her hands he pulled a burning twig from the fire and held it over the flame for a moment. He hoped he was not offending her with this precaution.

She looked at him with a curious smile. She didn't know what he was doing. Viktor choked in his soup. "She no hurt you, Tommy," he coughed, speaking in his poor English. "She charm the sharp stick. It not make sick." He then smiled charmingly at Katlana, two of his front teeth were missing.

Harry pulled off his hat, brushed back the brown hair and exposed his ear. He needed to remain still and not show anything on his face. He felt her cool hands on his ear stretching the lobe.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Yes." And then there was the Pop. He saw the blood squirt a foot in front of him.

"Ah, wonderful!" Katlana hurriedly slipped in a gold ring. "When you bleed it is always a sign of good luck." Nadya wandered up and watched. The blood hit her white apron.

"Dordi!" she cried. Stretching out the apron, she turned and stalked off. Her mother, laughed. She turned to Harry, a twinkle in her eye, "That is good luck, too."

Harry felt the blood trickle down his neck and hoped, it, and the stinging in his lobe, would soon stop. He frowned at Katlana Vloyski. She was always finding ways to yoke him in marriage to Nadya. Harry wouldn't have minded talking to the girl, in the ordinary way. But in the Roma families, boys his age were forbidden to talk to young girls. It was only after they married tha they could converse and that was rare as well. He found, with some displeasure, how impossible it was to have a conversation with Nadya, something, that he was finding that he would have given the gold earring to do.

When Jolie saw the ring in Harry's ear, he grinned. "Ah, now you are marked!"

"What do you mean marked?" Harry asked with some concern.

"You are an eligible bachelor now." Jolie said.

"So that's what it means?" Harry answered glumly.

Snape remained in the camp but stayed away from Harry. They ran into each other and each walked past, pretending the other was not present. The camp treated Snape with friendliness outwardly, as they would any outsider. In the background, one or two of the elders always watched him.

"Harry, when are you going to shoo that old crow out of here?" Jolie was commenting on Snape. He was watching him across the camp and twisting his moustache into a curl at his lip.

"I understand, Jolie. He's a hard man," Harry remarked, "but I need him for something. When the time comes he will go."

Jolie turned and looked into Harry's face. The sound of the young man's voice concerned him.

"Does that mean you will go as well?" he asked.

"It may be so," Harry said. "I have a long road before meas Tsyana would say." He looked up to see Jolie studying him carefully. "You know it was going to happen sooner or later Jolie."

The other nodded and rubbed his hand together as if washing them. his gaze seemed to be directed somewhere else as if he were daydreaming.

Harry sat in front of Snape smiling. The man had a look on his face that Harry would have dearly loved for Ron and Hermione to see. Katlana was lathering the once black greasy hair with soap. She rinsed him by shoving his head forward and pouring a bucket of water over him and it was not warm water. Snape sat up stiffly, allowing himself to be soaked. His clothes were the standard gypsy vest, shirt, necktie and trousers.

After she had rubbed his head vigorously with an old cloth, she had taken a pair of long shears from her pocket and started lopping off great big chunks of hair. Harry had wanted to see this done the moment he had laid eyes on Snape, his first year in Hogwarts. He couldn't help himself, the laughter burst out.

"Very funny, Potter," Snape grumbled through the hair drooping in his eyes.

"Ah, ah" Harry wagged his finger.

"Sorry… Tommy." Snape gurgled, his head shoved down to his chest. Katlana had her large rough hand on his crown, like a cap, scissoring away at the back of his head.

"You know as well as I do, _Uncle Bulbie_," Harry emphasized the name, "that you can transform back into your… old self, (Harry really wanted to say, 'your slimy, greasy old self),with just a wave of your wand."

Harry surveyed the finished and, somewhat, damp results. He was surprised at how good-looking Snape could really be. The hair was clean, short and brushed back from his face. He was dressed in clean clothes even if they were now spotted with water and Janos had given him one of his hats. If it hadn't been for the sour stare, the man would have looked almost human.

Harry handed over his Invisibility Cloak with hesitation. In all his days, he never dreamed that he would place such a thing in Snape's hands. On the other hand, there were many things that he could not have envisioned himself doing.

Snape had his instructions. He would be scouting out the road and the villages, on the alert for Death Eaters or Voldemort followers. He was to find a means to get a message to Voldemort that he had located Harry, without apparating directly to him.

"It will not work, _Tommy_," Snape hissed. "That is his way. If I do it any other way, he will become suspicious."

"It will work if you send him this and tell him that you can't break your cover." Harry pressed the photo album into Snape's hands. He had been furious to discover that Snape had been snooping among the belongings he had left at the Dursleys. And then, he realized that there were very few things that he would end up not losing in the end. With luck, a book of memories and pictures would be the least.

Harry looked at the man. What he had not put into words was the fact that he did not want Snape to have to endure Voldemort's torture. Snape knew it.

"Are you trying to save me, Potter?" Snape smirked, looking amused.

"I'm not trying to save you at all, Professor." Harry frowned. But that wasn't quite true. One of the reasons Snape resented him was because of Harry's father. Sirius had played a practical joke on Snape. James had pulled him back from meeting up with Remus Lupin, in his werewolf form, at the last moment and had saved his life. Snape had believed that James intentionally helped with the joke and lost heart at the last minute. He gave Harry's father no credit and even held it against Harry.

"Sending me into the wolves den?" Snape sneered. "Can't stomach it, Potter? Or do you believe I can't handle this little piece of subterfuge you have cooked up?"

"Whatever, you want to believe. Just remember Snape, there are only three of us now that know the prophecy. You hold my life in your hands. I would say that whatever it is that you think you owed my father, you can now repay through me." Harry said. The incessant arguing with his Potion's master was tiresome. Harry watched Snape pack the Invisibility Cloak and prepare to leave camp. "I will keep Dumbledore informed."

Snape didn't answer. He walked away from the camp knowing that Harry's eyes were on him.

Nadya Vloyski stood at the water's edge and waited. She saw Tommy walking along the game path towards her. Given the situation, she had to make it look like an accidental meeting. It was a hard game to play. At first acting like she didn't like him and then flirting with him. He hadn't got the hint and she needed to push it a little harder. Her eyes sparkled. He drew closer.

"What?! How dare you," she said, stepping out of the bushes. "Do you following me?"

"What?" Harry stepped back, startled. "No, no… I'm sorry." He turned to leave.

"Well, your not much of a gentleman," she said, in her huffiest voice.

"What? Sorry?" he was bewildered. He stood looking at her with his green eyes and a puzzled expression on his face.

"You could apologize," she said.

"Apologize? For what?" This time he caught the glint in her eye. "I'm not following you, Nadya." Harry stood his ground and looked at the girl. She was very pretty. Her hair hung to her waist, tied with her usual yellow scarf which accented the deepening flush rising to her high cheekbones.

He advanced a step closer and she didn't move. Harry didn't understand much about girls. His last encounter had been with Cho Chang at Hogwarts. He had bumbled his way through the whole thing. The thought made him a little nervous. He hadn't tried to talk to any girl since. _Like last year, I would want to_, he said to himself. He shook himself free of the image of Sirius, once again.

"Nadya, it's getting late," Harry smiled carefully and said, "you shouldn't be out here alone."

She pursed her lips and pretend-pouted, "I can take care of myself."

He took a step closer, glancing quickly around. Harry remembered the first time he had accidently bumped into the girl. "Where are your men? Why aren't they here to protect you?" He could smell the earthy clean smell of her. He looked deep into the pools of her dark eyes. He moved in closer and her sweet, warm breath blew gently on his face. He touched her lips gently. She kissed back. His hand slowly and gently drew her closer. There was no resistance.

Harry walked in the dark. The moon had not come up. Only the stars lit his path. He was feeling extremely happy. For the first time in months the heaviness lifted from his heart. For hours he had wandered, thinking of Nadya and the sweet kiss they shared. They both knew the risk in meeting together. It made the moment even more delicious.

Harry sat and let his mind drift. A figure stood nearby, it's presence not detected.

"Traveler," The melodious voice whispered in the dark, "how does thee not get eaten by a wild beast? Have thee no ears?"

The words shook Harry. "Verillieon?" he couldn't see the elf in the dark. Laughing to himself Harry thought, _I can't see him in the light let alone the dark! _"Where are you?"

"Right here, human."

Harry realized the elf stood in front of him. There was a soft golden sheen surrounding him. "Good to see you Verillieon."

"I find thee once again in the wood," the elf said.

"Yes…yes, I'm sorry." Harry glanced around. "I'll leave." He turned.

"I have brought thee a friend." There was a definite Pop! and standing before him was Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore?" Harry gaped.

"Hello, Harry," the voice was soft. "It's good to see you."

Harry took two steps forward and grabbed the old man in a hug. The two men were the same height.

"Harry, Harry," the man's voice broke slightly. They separated.

"It's Tommy, Professor," Harry laughed softly.

"Yes, yes. I should remember that." Dumbledore laughed gently, too. " Although, I think it is safe…" Harry saw him tap his wand to the ground and produce a small fire. It gave enough light for them to see each other. They sat down in front of it.

"How are you Har…Tommy?" Dumbledore asked.

"I'm fine," Harry said, grinning.

Dumbledore stared at the young man in front of him. There was a remarkable change, not only in the clothes and the external things he saw but in the green eyes as well. He saw healing there.

"I don't know that I would have recognized you if it hadn't been for my little friend." Dumbledore referred to Verillieon.

Harry was amazed. Dumbledore knew everyone. "I suppose I do look a bit different. You should have seen Pro…our friend before he left camp. Positively a changed man." Harry almost mentioned Snape's name.

Dumbledore nodded, still smiling, and said, "I was hoping you might rub off on him a little."

Harry grew serious, "I told him, you know, about the prophecy."

Dumbledore nodded, solemnly, "Perhaps it's best."

"Albus?" Harry spoke softly.

Dumbledore looked up, startled. He hadn't expected Harry to use his name, although it came out very naturally. Harry had matured. He looked like a grown man.

Harry continued, and asked, "Why are you here?"

"It's not because I don't trust you to carry this plan off, Harry," he began. His hand went up. "Please indulge me. I think we are safe enough and far away from prying ears."

Harry nodded. It sounded good to hear Dumbledore speak his name.

"I wanted to see you one last time, as… yourself," Dumbledore said and smiled, sadly.

Harry nodded. He understood.

"Sadly, Harry. That's no longer possible." The old man reached over and touched his arm. "That young boy that I saw leave my office two months ago is no longer with us. What I see now is a fully grown man and one I can say I'm very proud of."

Harry swallowed hard. The words that he wanted to say could not come out. He wanted very much to tell Dumbledore how much he loved him. It cost him to turn his head away and look in the darkness and not let the old man see the tears in his eyes. He turned back and smiled, "Tell me how everyone is."

They talked into the night. The half moon rose and traveled across the Milky Way. Harry stared at the familiar constellations and listened to the woods sing their night song. He felt comforted by Dumbledore's presence. For a little while he was again that boy.

"Harry are you sure that this is what you want to do?" Dumbledore asked.

"You know, Albus, it is the only way," Harry shuddered. "I would really like to see Hermione and Ron once, just once before… before this happens."

"I think it would be too dangerous. The more that know…" Dumbledore didn't finish before Harry interrupted.

"Yes, I know," he mumbled, hoping that the pain he felt wasn't reflected in his voice. "I'm trusting you, Albus. When this begins, you will make sure they are safe?"

"I will protect them with my life," Dumbledore said. Their small fire was cold and the air was taking on the chilliness of the coming dawn.

"We will meet again soon, then." Harry hugged the man briefly and was the first to turn and walk away. "Latcho Drom, (Safe Journey) Albus."

The old man stood in the dark staring at the boy's back. The smell of the burnt wood assailed his nostrils. He knew that he owed it to Harry to follow the plan. He knew what Harry would be giving up and it pained him. Now, everything was out of his hands. He was no longer the leader, but the follower.

"Good Night Harry."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Snape pulled the hat down over his eyes and watched the street. The little village was busy with activity. People were excited. News traveled fast that the Gypsies were coming to town. Besides being very mysterious people who kept to themselves they were marvelous entertainers and it was a treat to have them tour the countryside and put on shows.

So far everything had gone according to plan, Snape decided. He had stayed in the local inn for a week receiving news from his sources. The Dark Lord had believed him when he sent the message that told Voldemort that he had spotted Potter and was watching him.

Now, all Snape needed to know was how Harry was going to deal with the evil wizard. Voldemort would want to come himself, he knew that for a fact. He would not leave it up to anyone else this time. The boy had embarrassed the dark wizard by escaping his clutches too many times. Snape shuddered even in the heat of the day. "Foolish, foolish, boy!" he murmured. _Not even Dumbledore will be able to save him, _he thought.

He moved down the street smiling and nodding. People saw his clothes, not his eyes, which were penetrating, searching and calculating. Whatever else he was, he was a good spy. "Yes. The Vardo Carnival is coming! Tonight! Yes, it is wonderful!" he said as he handed out announcements and stopped to tack one to a post. He knew that it was a wasted effort. Everyone knew the gypsies were coming, word of mouth traveled fast. however it was a ruse; to observe.

Snape saw Arthur Weasley and his family of red-headed children in tow in the late afternoon. He made his way across the street.

"Alright, Molly," Weasley said, "I'll go in and sign for the rooms. It's so hot, why don't we meet down the street for some cool drinks. I won't be but a minute."

"Alright, Arthur." The chubby short woman rounded up her children who had outgrown her and towered over her and hustled them down the street.

"I say ol' Chap," Snape said as he bumped into Weasley, "got a sickle or two?"

"What? " Weasley exclaimed, suddenly taken off guard, "No!" he said, frowned and turned away.

"Well, do you have one for me!" Snape growled, using his own oily voice.

Weasley looked back into his face in shock. "Why, yes…yes, I think I do." He searched his robes all the while looking up and down the street.

"Perhaps we should step in here," Snape said, kindly. He pointed to the dark open doorway and followed the red-head.

"Snape!" Weasley whispered.

Snape shot his fiercest look. "Please, can we keep this on a no-name basis?"

"Yes, yes," Weasley grunted. "So it is on, then?"

Snape nodded and asked, "When will the others arrive?"

"Soon, soon," Weasley said.

"Whatever made you think to bring your children with you?" Snape snarled in the most vicious manner he could manage.

Arthur Weasley paled, "Well,…well, I…"

Snape hated it when the man repeated his words. He nodded politely and smiled at two people entering the small lobby and bowed at Weasley. "Why thank ye good sir." He held his hand out for Weasley to drop the silver sickle in it.

"See here..." Weasley bluffed. "He was turning beet red and getting angry. Snape turned away, his face frozen in his usual sneer.

He hit the street again, feeling the heat rise from the cobbled road. It enveloped him and sucked the energy from him. _This is not going to work_, he thought. _Not with incompetents like that_. He walked, careful to study the street behind him through the shop windows, duck into the shade of an awning or step into an alley to watch unobtrusively. Gaggles of children were laughing and forming up into little crowds at outside cafes. They licked ice creams and talked loudly, laughed and covorted.

Snape noticed a group of older children from Hogwarts. They were mostly Gryffindors. He recognized Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley and their friends. Snape pulled his hat down again. Adopting a rolling, almost drunken gait, he walked past. They didn't even look at him.

A hand touched his arm. He swallowed hard and glanced up from the bench he had taken

to observe the gathering crowds. He wasn't afraid and rather enjoyed the rush of adrenaline that coursed through him. At one time he decided that danger was an aphrodisiac to him. It never failed to stir him out of a lethargy or depression.

He recognized the blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. Like himself, Dumbledore had gone to great lengths to disguise himself. _The Polyjuice Potion is a very useful tool, Snape mused._ Dumbledore had chosen to resemble filch, although he had dressed with a little more taste.

Snape sat down next to him without acknowledging his presence. "Good to see you dear friend," Albus mumbled.

Snape nodded and dropped his head as if sleeping.

"Have you noticed anyone?" Dumbledore asked, snorting into a handkerchief.

Snape knew what he meant. Dumbledore wanted to know if any of the Death Eaters were around. "No," Snape whispered and then snored. A moment later he shook himself, as if suddenly wakening, got to his feet and lumbered away. Snape knew that Dumbledore wanted Harry to have a clear shot at Voldemort which he thought fantastic and utterly insane. The rest of them, members of the Order, were there in case, just in case, Malfoy or his friends decided to show, which Snape thought was likely.

The dark lord would not go anywhere without his guard and they were dangerous, almost as dangerous as he was himself. He frowned and shook his head once again thinking to himself. _How could Albus think that the boy could stand up to him in these circumstances. I don't care how good those gypsies are their magic still cannot beat His!_

He slipped into a pub and found a corner near a window. The room was crowded but cool and dark. Slipping a coin onto the table, the bar maid brought him a drink. He had to smile graciously and answer her questions about the Carnival and then he was left alone.

Lupin found him and slipped into a chair across from him. The man had taken pains to wear a cloak and cover his face. Although few would know him as a werewolf, they might recognize anyway. Snape watched the room carefully. Lupin was not obvious in the pub Snape had chosen. Snape smiled brightly as if meeting an old friend.

Lupin spoke softly, "I just want you to know, that if anything happens to… to the boy. Well, let's just say, you will pay dearly."

Snape kept the smile on his face and took a sip of his drink and replied, "Of course." He nodded to some of the patrons who were noticeably celebrating, they were drunk. "When has it ever not been on my back?"

The other man snorted, "I don't think you understand, Severus. If anything goes wrong and you-know-who hurts him, then I will kill you." The cloaked man stood, looked down and said, "The other's are here and in place."

"Aye mate. Jolly good!" Snape smiled and shouted at Lupin over the din of the pub. He leaned back as if taking up permanent residence in the chair and pulled his hat down lower on his forehead. His eyes glittered even more darkly then they had before. When he was angry they were almost all pupil. Lupin disappeared into the crowd.

The sun set with the streets becoming ever more crowded.

"They're here!" someone shouted. Small children ran along the street and chattered excitedly. Mother's held onto tiny hands. Everyone crowed the curb and peered down the street.

Brightly decorated, bowed wagons began in front of them. Acrobats, with white-painted faces were cart wheeling down the street alongside the horses. Fiddlers played and dancing girls swirled and clapped their hand cymbals, their bodies writhing. Harry walked at the back of the last wagon, allowing the dust from the street to cloud up around him. His head was bent and he watched the ground. Jolie was whirling around their wagon, dressed as a clown. He was making people laugh by scooping up horse dung and doing tumbling tricks.

He slowed to speak to Harry. He was breathless. "You all right?" Jolie asked, out of breath from his exertions. He gestured expansively and smiled at the cheers from the crowd.

"Yes," Harry said. He drew closer to the wagon and mingled into the shade of it trying to keep his head down.

"Almost there, hang on!" Jolie ran ahead and swatted the horse's rumps, jumping on theirs back a and doing hand-stands, making straggling people on the street, laugh and cheer. It was already getting late in the day and the wagons were rumbling their way over the rough cobble street through town, to the outskirts. A large meadow was strung with lanterns and tents were being erected. A Go-around towered over the lights and Harry could already hear the sound of children laughing.

Everyone began to busy themselves as the wagons were pulled under some large oak trees and the women were starting cooking fires. Men and boys were unhitching horses and pulling out equipment they would use to set up an outdoor trapeze. The stilt-walkers were pulling out their brightly colored gear and the area was full of dust and noise.

Harry drank the cool water that Katlana gave him. He was covered with dust, purposely hiding in among the horses with the other boys, setting them out to graze. Nadya stood quietly by, talking to him with her eyes. They had met the night before, just as the dawn was rising. She knew what was going to happen.

Both Katlana and Nadya were dressed to do their fortune-tellingThey would be in special tents separate from the main performance area.

"You must not come to me, Nadya." Harry warned, as he held her and watched the pinks of the morning sun filling the sky. They had not slept all night using the cover of night to talk and be with one another. "If all goes well, we will meet on the road again."

She looked at him with her dark, warm eyes and nodded. He could tell that she was trying not to cry. "You chose the wrong person to love," he said in his own language. "And I made a mistake in loving anyone at all." He switched to Romani, "Do you understand? If something happens, you must not come to me. You have to believe that I will be alright."

Harry was still surprised at how quickly he had succumbed to her. They had known each other only a short time and their time together was very limited because of her cultural standards and yet he knew in his heart that he loved her and that there would never be another.

He wandered back to the tents, staying in the shade of the wagons, his mind consumed by thoughts of her. He wondered if he had any future, if there was any possibility that he would actually stay alive long enough to see her again as they had the night before.

"Tommy! It's time to dress." Luciano held out his blue silk trousers. The man caught him in the middle of his daydreaming and startled him. " Come in to the tent. Sit! We have to do your face."

"Where's Gregor, Luciano?" Harry asked, hesitating to turn and look out through the crack in the tent flap.

"He will be along. He has many preparations for this night," Luciano answered and slapped the white grease pain on Harry's face a little roughly.

"Lucie, ouch!" Harry complained, grabbing at the fast-moving hand.

"Agh!" The little man, stopped, grabbed Harry around the head and broke into sobs.

"Lucie, stop. It's all right." Harry was hoarse with emotion. Taking the jar of paint from his fist, Harry sent the man out of the tent. "Go. Go, fetch me some tea," he mumbled.

"Hello, Tommy." Gregor entered and took the jar out of Harry's hand. "We have a big crowd tonight." He smeared the grease paint over his face and began to attach his mask. He was already dressed in his blue and purple silk clothes.

Harry continued his own preparations. He was nervous; feeling terrible, more than he ever had before a Quidditch match. He had a million questions running through his mind, but knew he couldn't ask them. He had talked to Gregor, Viktor and others early that morning trying to make sure their plans were well thought out.

"Gregor?" he started.

"Yes, Tommy," the man answered. He strapped on his bird cage harness. Harry watched and once again thought the transformation was impressive. When complete, the man would stand on stilts that rose six feet above the ground. They would be covered in a device that was decorated with real feathers and harness and saddle that was strapped to the torso. Once assembled they would look like men riding large exotic birds. Their own faces were covered with masks that had large beaks and they wore hats with large feathers of various colors. They held reins that appears to be tied to the birds head but in fact made the head move as one would move a puppet, thereby giving the impression that the head moved, ducking and swinging as a natural bird would move.

"Will you do something for me?" Harry hooked the buckle to his own cage.

"Of course!" Gregor said. He stopped and waited.

Harry wanted very much to ask Gregor if he would comfort Nadya and tell her, _Tell her what? _he thought_. Tell her that I'm about to die? _"Nothing. Never-mind," he stuttered.

The man reached over and made sure that Harry's own harness was buckled. They used a set of stairs to mount their stilts that looked like long bird legs. Harry was not as confident as the older man who had years of experience, and he took a moment to cling to the pole that steadied him until he could get his balance.

The entertainment had started. Harry and Gregor moved together as planned. The other stilt-walkers moved throughout the crowd. Harry's heart calmed to a smooth easy rhythm. He walked, stopped, made the bird motions, dipping and rearing up, and snatched the coins out of the air that people threw.

He caught himself almost tumbling for the first time from his stilts when he saw them; Ron and Hermione. They were with Ginny, Neville Longbottom, Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood. Harry stared at them, frozen in place, forgetting to move his bird.

"Tommy!" Gregor walked over slowly. "What are you doing?!" His dark eyes flashed nervously over the crowd. "Are you out of balance? Do you need my hand? We must keep moving so as not have the eyes on us."

Harry shook himself and pulled up his reins. He couldn't take his eyes from them. _What are you doing here? _He thought furiously_, You weren't suppose to be here!_

They looked up at him, their eyes not registering what they truly saw. Ron flipped him a coin and he caught it, just as he had done with all the others.

"Ha! He'd make a good Seeker, " Ron said and laughed.

Hermione nodded and studied Harry's face. He dropped his eyes quickly knowing that if anyone could recognize him, even with a mask, it would be her. He spoke to Gregor in Romani so that it would throw her off. "We are getting good coins tonight," he said loudly.

Harry's heart was in his throat, waiting to see if his act had worked. He stopped and watched them melt into the crowd. When they had disappeared he put the coin in a pocket instead of the collection bag. Harry knew that he could not stop what was going to happen now regardless of whether they were present or not, and he could not warn them.

And then it happened and he knew.

Just as the man with the new short haircut, dressed in dark black robes, knew. Harry's scar exploded in agony and Snape's dark mark burned. Voldemort had arrive at the fair.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

It all happened quickly. The Dark Mark shot into the air, a skull shimmering in sparkling green flashes and a snake curling sensuously through it. People screamed, grabbed their children and scattered. Dark had fallen and wizards and witches were lighting their wands and guiding small children into the trees and away from the tents. The grounds were crowded and there were some that were inside tents. When they heard the shrill screams they emerged, looked up and ran. Someone knocked over a lamp and it caught a tent on fire. With a terrible whoosh it swept down the line and started others.

Wizards ran to put out the flames. Horses neighed in terror at the flames that were catching other tents. The fires were quickly being extinguished but the grounds were flooded with a heavy acrid smoke and flying burning debris.

Harry and the other stilt walkers were in real danger with people knocking against them. As planned, Gregor and Harry quickly jumped down, removed their bird harnesses. Gregor left his side, carrying away their costumes. Harry slowly made his way towards the center of the commotion, directly under the dark mark that still hung suspended above the fair grounds.

People were still brushing past him. Harry pulled his hat off. He wanted Voldemort to recognize him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Romani and some he thought to be in the Order of the Phoenix. But he walked alone down the dirt corridor, through the smoke and whirling fragments of tent-cloth that still burned.

Snape had dropped to his knees when he felt Voldemort apparate near him. He struggled to not grab his arm where the mark burned. Voldemort sent his sign into the air, chuckling wickedly. He turned and saw the kneeling figure. Several Death Eaters were apparating around him. They moved off into the darkness quietly, without speaking.

"What fun we will have this evening, Severus." The Dark Lord touched Severus' shoulder. He was happy.

"Yes, my Lord, " Snape murmured, trying to keep the agony of the touch out of his voice.

"Tell me where he is," Voldemort said.

Severus had located Harry moments before. "He walks on the stilts. He is the green bird and wears the orange mask. He is just beyond this tent behind you."

"Very good Severus. You have been a faithful servant and you will be rewarded."

"Thank you, Master."

"Follow me." Voldemort's red eyes burned on top of Snape's head.

"My Lord. If you wish." Snape stood and followed the long magenta robe that trailed behind the wizard. Snape tried to clear his mind. The Dark Lord could easily read his thoughts. He was safe for the moment, the wizard was focused on Harry Potter. Snape's eyes searched for the other wizards; Dumbledore, Lupin, anyone. He felt panic. _Would he have to do this by himself?_

The wisps of smoke cleared and Snape saw Harry walking towards them.

_Oh, my god! _Snape stopped. _He is alone!_

The force of Voldemort's emotions caused lamps to explode around them. A tornadic wind blew through the tents and dust clouds mingled with smoke. Voldemort was laughing. His robe blew against his body, and he laughed harder. Thunder erupted, lightening flashed. Voldemort was speaking, but Snape couldn't hear.

Snape's eyes are on the boy, wishing him will all of his will to turn and run. _Run, Potter get away! You cannot defeat him! _Snape's eyes are burning. and stinging fromthe dust and smoke and he fights to see.

_Harry Potter continues to walk towards them._

_And then it happens. Snape raises his wand to point it at Voldemort's back._

_ A red flash snaps Snape's wand from his hand. _

_Voldemort raises his wand and speaks the words, "Avada Kadavra!" Green light flashes across the opening in the smoke and hits the boy. Harry Potter crumples to the ground, never having raised his wand, and is motionless._

Snape loses consciousness when a curse hits him from behind.

Flashes from wands eruptfrom every direction, there are screams and shouts.

Voldemort disappears with a swish of his cloak, his laughter exploding behind him.

A lone figure emerges and walks over to Harry. It is Dumbledore in his own body. He kneels and raises Harry's head. Minutes later, other wizards emerge from tents and the shadows. They encircle Dumbledore and the motionless body. One steps forward and picks up the lifeless body.

(Natasha's note: don't worry folks, I didn't kill him! SO don't send me ugly notes :)


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Dumbledore attended the meeting of the Order of the Phoenix in the basement kitchen at No. 12 Gimmauld Place. It was full to bursting with people. He wasn't trying to restore order. He merely sat looking down the length of the long wooden table. There was a huge commotion with people talking all at once, people crying and people just standing silently in shock.

"I will kill you!" Lupin shouted. He was waving a wand at Snape. Nymphadora Tonks, Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt were standing behind him, ready- once again- to grab his arms if it looked like he was going to use the wand.

Snape sat quietly across the table. He had a gash across his cheek. It bled, dripping down into his neck to his collar adn staining the white shirt crimson like a rose. He stared stonily at Lupin, gripping his own wand and ready to bring it up to defend himself. He was even paler then normal and his lips were so tightly pressed together that they were a thin line/

"WHERE WERE ALL OF YOU?!" Ron screamed, beet-faced and held tightly in the embrace of his older brother and father. Tears continually flowed down his cheeks. Bill was close to tears and Arthur Weasley was rocking his youngest son in his arms like a infant in attempt to calm him..

Hermione Granger sat sobbing into her folded arms, her head on the table, comforted by Molly Weasley who had her other arm around her youngest daughter Ginny's shoulders. Fred and George Weasley sat one on each side and were silent contemplating the table as if it were an alien object.

"He's dead, Albus! What went wrong?" someone else spoke.

Dumbledore sat motionless his hands gathered in front of him and stared into the distance.

Minerva McGonagal stared at Dumbledore. She was white-faced and in shock and had her hand over her mouth. Her eyes jumped from person to person as they all were trying to talk and make sense of things at once.

The noise of the new front door alarm made everyone turn towards the kitchen door and listen.

"Where is 'e?" Hagrid's voice boomed through the hall. "Where the bloody 'ell is 'e?"

Dumbledore looked up, stood and hurried from the room to meet the half-giant.

The room quieted as they listened. They could all hear Dumbledore's muffled voice and Hagrid's bellowing. "No, Professor, Sir. He can't be! He can't be…Dead!" Hagrid's wailing vibrated through the house.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Harry Potter's body lay in Sirius' old bedroom. At least, the one that Alastor- Mad-Eye-Moody had placed there. The real Harry Potter was riding in a coach on his way to Diagon Alley. The body he had left behind was Peter Pettigrew.

Harry was staring out into the sunshine and thinking about it. A little Polyjuice Potion, a few of Harry's hairs, the Silencio Charm and two gypsy wizards puppeteering Pettigre's legs- propelling him towards Voldemort; that's all it had taken. Voldemort believed that who he had seen was Harry Potter. He hadn't hesitated. He struck with one blow and killed Harry. Or the person he thought was Harry.

_Now you can join your friends Peter_, Harry thought. _You gave your life for me, you are now out of my debt. _Harry wondered if he was now on the road to being like Voldemort. He had, after all, sanctioned Peter's death; it had been his plan.

Harry had three days to purchase the items on his list and make the Hogwart's Express. He noticed that McGonagal had included his OWLS grade in with the usual list. Dumbledore had forwarded the letter to him. Harry had passed everything, including Potions. He managed a smile to himself, although the marks would do him no good now. He knew that he would be in Snape's potions class regardless of the grades.

There wasn't much that he smiled at these days. One person outside the Kumpania knew that he was not really dead. The plan had gone well. He thought about what had happened. Hopefully, he would have two more years to prepare. Two more years at Hogwarts before he would have to meet Voldemort for the real thing. He would be at Hogwarts completing his education and under the protection of Dumbledore.

The only problem for him was that he could not reveal his true identity to anyone, not to Ron or Hermione or Hagrid. The old gypsy woman, Tshaya, had performed the complex magic that had transformed his face. He would be a new student, just starting and no one would know him. Dumbledore had granted his every wish, including putting him in Slytherin. Snap had actually given him the idea. If Snape could act as a spy why couldn't disguise himself and do the same?

Harry looked at the Hogwarts crest on his letter. _This is going to be really hard_, he thought.

He consoled himself by thinking about Nadya and the rest of her people. He would be returning to them in the summer. _No more Dursleys_.

Hogwart's Express pulled out of the station at exactly ten o'clock. The trip through the barrier was second nature to him. What wasn't natural to Harry was stowing his trunk into an empty compartment. What wasn't natural was missing the owl cage that usually contained his snowy white owl, Hedwig.

Harry arrived early and climbed aboard the steaming Hogwaart's Express. His all new trunk and belongings were stowed. What was different were his clothes. He wore his Romani clothes; a pair of trousers, an embroidered vest, a blousey shirt and his scarf. The golden earring hung from one ear and a hat sat on his sun-bleached brown hair.

Harry had decided to take one thing from the muggle world before he gave it up entirely. That had been a pair of brown contact lenses. They had arrived at The Leaky Cauldron as he packed earlier in the day. He'd looked into the mirror. Katlana's charm was magical. He didn't recognize his own face. The scar above his eye was transformed into a tattoo.

"Who are you? he asked the mirror.

"Well, that's a silly question, young man," the mirror answered. "If you don't know yourself, then I can't help you!"

Harry nodded, resigned to the face he now wore.

He watched the crowd form on Platform 9 and ¾'s. As usual, it was full of families, luggage, owls, cats and trolleys. He saw all of the familiar faces he thought he would not see again and even thought he glimpsed the red hair of his friend Ron and his sister Ginny. But they moved away to the other end of the train and disappeared from view.

Harry had spent the last few days preparing himself for how he would feel when he got back on the train and saw his friends. But he knew as he sat there that there really was no way to prepare for the feelings he was now having.

"Hello?" a stocky, tall boy dipped his pale-haired head into the compartment. Harry knew immediately who it was, even though Draco Malfoy had grown several inches and had put on weight. "Who are you?" The eyes roved over Harry's clothes, noting the foreign look of him.

Harry stared back. "Tomas Pane," he said after a moment, "people generally call me Tommy." Harry noticed Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's ever-faithful thugs crowding in behind him.

Malfoy frowned at the two, and snapped, "will you two watch where you're going. Slow down!" They obediently stood waiting for his orders. "Crabbe, you first!" The round-gorilla shaped boy slowly put his trunk into the rack and sat down. The other followed. They had grown as well during the holidays and now resembled Hagrid's brother, a giant.

Draco plopped himself down in the seat in front of Harry. He smiled, running his silver-ringed hand along the window sill. Harry watched, amused. Malfoy looked very much like a little Prince Charming.

"This is Crabbe and Goyle," Draco nodded to the others and then pointedly ignored them. "You're new at Hogwarts. Obviously you're not a First Year student." The eyes roved over his clothing once again. "Where did you go to school before?"

Harry waited just long enough to see irritation in Draco's eyes. He wanted him to know that he wasn't intimidated. "I didn't go to school anywhere else. The Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore, I think his name is, has given me special permission to enter Hogwarts."

"How does that work? Do you get sorted with the rest of the First Year's?" Draco chortled. Crabbe and Goyle grinned in unison.

"I've been sorted already into Slytherin House," Harry answered.

Draco's eyebrows went up. "Really! Then you're a pureblood?" New respect showed on his face.

"Yes," Harry answered.

"And what family are you related to?" Draco asked, with interest.

"I am related to Professor Snape," Harry answered.

"Really!" Draco's eyes twinkled. "Well!" He turned with Harry to watch as the train pulled out of the station. Then he turned back, "I am Professor Snape's favorite student."

"Are you?" Harry asked keeping a poker face.

"Yes. I'm one of the few student's that will be able to take his Advanced Potion's Class this year. I received one of the highest grades in my O.W.L's." Draco glared at him and hissed, "Do you know what an O.W.L. is?"

"Yes," Harry answered. "I guess I will be joining you. I am listed for that class as well."

Draco's eyebrows once again went up. "What kind of clothes are you wearing? Why are you wearing an earring in your ear?"

Harry was enjoying this. He chose his words carefully, delighting in the reaction he was getting."I work in a carnival during the holiday. I am a gypsy." Harry knew that Draco's respect for him was going up an down like a thermometer; at first hot and then cold.

"A gypsy?!" Draco laughed nervously. He glanced at his mates and shifted in his chair. There was some hesitation and worry in the eyes and the smile was fading.

"Yes," Harry said and glared back, saying very firmly, "and I'd wipe that smile off my face if you know what's good for you."

Draco's face went white. Crabbe and Goyle stopped laughing and stared at Harry.

"Who do you think you are?" Draco sneered.

"I'm Snape's favorite student now," Harry said, rocking a little with the motion of the train.

They arrived at the station in the dark. Harry pulled his trunk down and set it on the platform to be picked up with the rest of the luggage. He could hear a familiar voice ringing out. "First Years, this way." Straining, he caught a glimpse of the dark hulk that was Hagrid. The sound soothed him

Draco, Crabbe and Goyle followed behind him. Harry knew that he had achieved one more step in his plan. He had the upper hand. It had taken one small enchantment to do the trick. Jolie had been very clever in teaching it to him earlier that summer. That and _Legilimens. Thank you Professor, _he said to himself. _That has come in very handy_.

Harry climbed into the coach, along with the three very docile Slytherins and rode to the castle in silence. He stared out of the window, sadness filling his heart.

"What the devil happened, Dumbledore?!" Snape stood in front of the Headmaster's desk. His face contorted with fury. "He's dead! It wasn't the plan to let him walk out there alone and be killed." Snape gritted his teeth. "I tried at the last minute to stop the Dark Lord and someone attacked me from behind. Where were you?" He turned his back on the serene looking face of the older man. "What was it all for anyway?"

Dumbledore looked at the stiff figure before him. "That's why I called you here, Severus. Harry is not dead."

Snape swirled on his heel and glared at Dumbledore. "He's what?!" he snapped.

"He's not dead," Dumbledore said it again very plainly. "The body we buried yesterday was not Harry. It was Peter Pettigrew."

"What?!" Snape face's turned from sallow to an unhealthier hue of red.

"I could not tell you what was planned. Harry sends his apologies. We both knew that you would… take the heat, as the muggles like to say, for his death." Dumbledore held up a hand as Snape appeared to be about to burst forth again. He is on his way here even as we speak. Transformed you might say," Dumbledore said smiling a little. "No one will recognize him, Severus. His _friends_ have made that possible." They both knew who he was talking about. "He is to be in your House."

Snape drew himself up and grasped his arms over his chest." Oh, really! And do I not have a say in this?"

"No, Severus, you do not." It was Dumbledore's turn to stand stiffly, nose to nose with the man dressed in black. Snape backed down and Dumbledore turned and sat in front of his cold fireplace. "Come and have tea with me, Severus."

"No, thank you," Snape hissed.

"Then come and sit down!" Dumbledore insisted.

Snape sat and stared, anger flashing in his black eyes. "It was you that shot the wand from my hand." Dumbledore nodded. "You kept me from protecting him?" Dumbledore nodded again. "It was all to fool…"

"Voldemort? Yes." Dumbledore said.

"How long do you think this trick can last?" Snape asked. He sat with his long pale fingers templed in front of him and pressed to his lips in contemplation.

"We hope for two more years. Long enough for Harry to complete his education. Long enough for him to prepare."

"I see. So you used me? He used me?" Snape glared.

"Come now, Severus. We are all being used." Dumbledore whirled his wand and a tea set appeared at his elbow. "Do you think this little ploy is going to make a difference? Harry told me that you know the prophecy. All we can do is fight the war for him until he can do it for us. And believe me, Severus, war is coming. Now that Voldemort…" Snape flinched, "Voldemort thinks Harry is dead, he will try to take over as he did before. We are all in danger. Thankfully, his eye is turned from Hogwarts for the present," Dumbledore poured two cups of tea. " Severus, you helped save the one person who might make a difference in the end."

Snape studied the calm exterior of his headmaster. "You could have at least informed me, Albus. I think you owed me that much."

"It was not for me to say. It's Harry's life and Harry's decision," he sipped again.

"So Harry is in my House?" Snape picked up his tea, took out his wand and swirled it over the cup, changing it into a glass of amber-colored brandy.

"Yes. His name is Tomas Pane," Dumbledore said. "No one here at Hogwarts is to know that he is Harry, other than you and me. No one, Severus."

Snape sipped at the brandy, and said under his breath, "Tommy!"

"By the way," Dumbledore blew on the hot tea in his cup, "Harry did tell me that I was to let you know that he will be telling everyone he is related to you."

Snape sat the glass down so hard on the table that it shattered.

"REPARO, teacup." Dumbledore said, quietly and continued to blow on his hot tea.

The Sorting Ceremony was complete. The feast had been eaten. The room was quiet and Dumbledore stood to address them. Black drapes once again adorned the Hall, just as they had when Cedric Diggory died. Harry knew what was coming next.

"We start a new year at Hogwarts, following a very eventful one last year," Dumbledore began. He was referring to the Ministry's interference and the Reign of Umbridge as Harry heard people describe it. "Welcome to new students and old students. I beg a few moments to tell you all about the start-of term notices and…" his voice dropped, "to tell you a story." Students whispered furiously across the Hall. Harry was surprised. He'd never known anyone to speak while Dumbledore was talking. It sounded like a wind.

"Yes…yes, many of you already know and perhaps we should talk first and give out notices last." Dumbledore dropped his head and appeared to be thinking for a moment. "Just days ago, one of our very fine students died. He was one of the most courageous and bravest people I have ever had the privilege to know. " The buzzing grew louder. Harry heard the sudden sobbing of a dozen girls at the table's nearby. He glimpsed Cho Chang's stunned face at the Ravenclaw table.

"Draco leaned in to Harry's ear. "D'you know who Potter was?"

Harry felt his skin crawl at the heat of Draco's breath on his face. "No."

"You know, The-Boy-Who-Lived? Draco spat.

"Yes. I've heard of him." Harry conceded, pulling back, shrugging off Malfoy's hand from his arm.

"My father helped kill him," Draco said, eyes burning with glee. "He was there when it happened."

Harry very much wanted to push the sneering face away from him in disgust.

"Harry Potter was killed by Lord Voldemort." Dumbledore said. Again there was a gasp from the students and even more outcries. Harry could not see across the room to the Gryffindor table without standing up, but somewhere in the din he heard Hermione sobbing. He wanted to stand up and rush over to her. Harry's heart was torn even further when he looked at the staff table and saw McGonagall, Flitwick looking tearful and Hagrid weeping openly. Harry didn't look any further but stared at the table top, gripping the edge so hard he thought he'd break it in half.

"Please," Dumbledore's hands were in the air, pleading for calm. The room quieted. "The staff and I want to assure you that you are all safe here at Hogwarts. That is not to say that we should not all be vigilant. Times are changing and no one can really see into the future and know for certain all of our Fates."

Harry pleaded silently that this would end and he could go off to bed. This was all so horribly painful. He looked up and a gap appeared between the bodies of students. He was looking directly at Ron. The freckled face was ashen. Harry could tell that Ron was looking past him and didn't recognize him. _Please let it end Dumbledore, let it be over_.

"I think perhaps it is best if the Prefects instruct the new students on the rules and that we say good night for now." Dumbledore's voice dropped and he sat back abruptly in his chair.

The Hall remained deadly silent until a voice rang out. A quavering, tearful McGonagall rose to her feet. "Would the Head Boy and Girl please help the Prefects. It is time to go to bed. We have a very long day ahead of us tomorrow."

People stood and began to gather at the entrance to the Hall, separating into streams; some going up the staircases and others to the dungeons. Harry was pulled by the strong desire to let his feet carry him up the staircase to Gryffindor tower. Instead, he allowed a very compliant and friendly Malfoy to guide him down the corridor to Slytherin common rooms.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

The first news of Voldemort's movements came very soon. After having killed Harry he had wasted no time. His path was clear. What he was doing was not generally well known on the streets and so the Ministry, fearful of all out panic, was once again engineering the news.

Harry could not depend on the Daily Prophet to tell him what was happening in the world. Instead, Harry read the news in the rocks that had carefully been placed at the entrance to Hogwarts. In the early morning hours, just before daybreak , he had slipped through the Slytherin Common room and out the door. It felt good to be out of his rooms.

He had asked Dumbledore to put him in Malfoy's dorm. Not surprisingly, when he arrived at the dungeon Common Room, Malfoy led him into their room. An empty four-poster bed sat next to Malfoy's and Harry's belongings had already been unpacked. It was almost claustrophobic being in the same room as the Slytherins, pretending that he was no who he was, although he was glad that he had put Malfoy in his place on the train. He didn't have to live with non-stop bragging and bullying trying to decide who was going to be topdog.

Harry crept down the drive in his bare feet. The stones that were left behind by the Roma were gathered to the side of the road. Harry studied them, kicked them apart and returned to the castle. Voldemort was gathering his forces very near Hogwarts and harry was sure that he was going to attempt to infiltrate the school, try to catch people coming out of the school or in some way pin Dumbledore in. Harry felt very pleased with the message. _So you're going to try stealth this time instead of an all-out frontal attack. Build yourself up again, is that it? _Harry was thinking furiously and not aware when the dark tall figure emerged from the shadows.

"Mr. Pane, I presume?" Snape stood before him. The tone of voice was predictably cold and cruel.

"Yes, Professor," Harry said, stopping in his tracks.

"Since you are new to Hogwarts, let me explain clearly to you what the rules are. No one is to be out on the grounds or wandering the halls at night," Snape said. The look in his eyes was steely.

"But, Professor," Harry began to protest half-heartedly. _It's hardly night_, Harry thought. Snape was now at Hogwarts and knew about him and he was going to get back at him for every little thing that had happened in the Roma camp during the summer and for being the target of everyone's anger. Harry was prepared for it although he was not happy about it.

"Since you did not know the rules and you are in my House, Mr. Pane, I will not take points from you. Be warned! This will not happen again," Snape's snarled, his stare was drilling a hole in him.

"Yes, Professor," Harry said, dropping his head just enough so that he appeared to be chagrined.

"Be on your way, Mr. Pane," Snape said and then, brushed past him, bumping his shoulder rather hard.

Harry stood staring after him. He almost allowed himself to smile. Snape had left his hair short and it was clean!

The first day of classes was Harry's nightmare come true. He ate his breakfast slowly while he read the list: Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Astronomy, Potions, Magical Creatures, Defense Against the Dark Arts, _Wonder whose teaching that? _Harry hadn't noticed any new teachers at the table last night. But then he hadn't noticed much of anything except a lot of people crying and weeping. The thought made his stomach roll. He laid aside his breakfast and concentrated on the list.

The only benefit he could see was that as a Slytherin student he no longer had to take History of Magic or Divination. Other choices were now open to him; Arithmancy.

_No, I can't take that, _he told himself. He thought he might look different on the outside but he hadn't got any smarter on the inside. And besides that, he knew he couldn't be in the same class with Hermione. She was too clever a witch. He knew he needed to keep his distance from her.

Harry reviewed the list. Slytherin shared two classes with Gryffindor. Defense Against the Dark arts and Transfiguration. He hoped that by staying at the back of the class and not being too obvious, he would not give Ron or Hermione any hint as to his identity. It was at that moment, he looked up to see the two enter the Hall, followed by a gloomy-faced Neville.

He couldn't help himself, he had to stare. They all looked terrible. Harry was glad to see that the entire Gryffindor table, and others, from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw stepped over to pat them on the back or console them. Ginny Weasley, entered and joined them. She too, looked tired and sad.

A thumb poked him in the ribs, "Sick bunch, them!" Malfoy chuckled, noticing where Harry was looking. "Lost their Golden Boy."

Harry dropped his gaze.

"Ready for class?" Malfoy asked and pulled a plate of eggs towards him, heaping some on his plate. Malfoy had more than willingly to let Harry assume authority with a little urging from harry's wand. It was Harry's only consolation as he listened to the gossip around him. The gossip _about_ him.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the others were not the only ones who looked terrible. Harry slowed and fell behind Malfoy to walk by himself. He entered Professor McGonagall's class. For the first time in his memory he looked at a woman who was very old. Not even being attacked by Umbridge's goons or put in St. Mungo's Hospital had affected her as much as the news of his death. Harry once again felt overwhelmed by the grief he saw around him.

"You are all in this Advanced Transfiguration Class, which tells me that you have performed well enough in your O.W.L.s to warrant your placement here. Be forewarned that you will find our studies to be much more difficult than you have experienced before," McGonagall said. Harry sat at the back of the room, in the shadows. He had a perfect view of Hermione and Ron who sat together near the front. He noticed that Ron had clasped Hermione's hand in his own and sat holding it under the table. _Good, they need each other now_, he thought. _More than ever_. Harry discovered this made him feel slightly relieved.

Hagrid's Magical Creatures class was even harder. Harry's class was joined by many of the Ravenclaw's and Hufflepuff's. It was not an advanced class and so had many 5th year student's in it. What made it difficult was seeing Hagrid. Harry knew his disguise was good because Hagrid did not recognize him. It hurt almost more then he could stand when Hagrid glanced at him, gave him a small, polite smile and went on to teach class.

Harry nearly burst out laughing when he saw the subject of their first class. Hagrid led them around the end of the paddocks, his pumpkin patches and down a ravine bordering the Forbidden Forest. In the shadows of the ravine, was a large cave. Trees and vines obscured the view. Harry trailed behind the others, remaining as inconspicuous as possible.

It wasn't until he saw the earth move that he realized Hagrid was introducing the class to his half-brother, a full giant, sixteen feet tall; a giant named Grawp.

Grawp's back was to the class. Smoke curled up in front of him. Hagrid stopped them some twenty feet away. "All righ' there, Grawp?" Hagrid called up to him. "Had a good nap, eh? Good boy, good boy. Brought some friends ter see ya, Grawpy." Several girl's screamed, one fainted straight away when the giant turned and stood up.

"It's alright, Grawpy," Hagrid said looking nervous. "Jus' friends, jus' company that's all."

"'agrid." the giant's voice was like boulders rolling and crashing together. Grawp bent at the waist to look at the little crowd, which sent at least three other students running back down the trail.

Harry watched with amusement. It appeared that Hagrid had made a lot of progress with Grawp over the summer. The giant was no longer bashing Hagrid's face in or tearing up trees.

"There's a GOOD BOY." Hagrid was backing the student's back down the trail as Grawp took a step towards them. ""agrid," Grawp touched Hagrid with a finger, "Grawp, hungry."

"Alright there, Grawpy." Hagrid nodded vigorously, "I'll be fetchin' you your breakfast 'ere in a minute."

"Grawpy, hungry now." Grawp grumbled like two stones grinding together. He stood to his full sixteen feet. The small boulder of a head revealed a scowling face.

Hagrid was backing up faster, and speaking softly, "It's alright. Goin' to get it now."

Harry was watching a disaster about to take place. Unobtrusively, he slipped his wand from his robe and waved it. Suddenly, the giant was sitting back on his heels and then slowly lowering himself to the ground. He was fast asleep before his head hit the ground.

"Well, well!" Hagrid looked relieved. "I can see yer tired and need a nap. I'll bring yer breakfas' in a minute."

The class went back up to Hagrid's hut, where they spent the remainder of class listening to Hagrid talk about giants.

Harry was the first to leave and return to the castle. Lunch was taken alone at the end of the Slytherin table. Harry had made it clear to Malfoy that he was not to be disturbed unless he wanted company.

After lunch, Harry made his way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. He was drawing stares from a number of students. He did his best to wear a mean scowl and to adopt a tough attitude. Those who approached, quickly stepped away.

Harry entered the classroom behind everyone else, just as he had done earlier in the day. He heard the moans and gasps before he even looked up. Snape stood at the head of the classroom his arms crossed over his black robes. Once again, Harry noticed how different the man looked without the greasy hair. Still, he wore the typical ugly expression on his face.

"How pleased I am to see you all here," he began, and then dropped his arms stiffly to his side and glared even more. "This is a class. You will show your respect by arriving on time and prepared to work. That means silence!" The room quieted immediately.

"Very good," he said, the voice was oily. "This is an advanced Dark Arts class. Which means that you will be trained with very particular skills." His dark eyes slowly searched the room until they landed on Harry. " I will be teaching the class until Professor Dumbledore has found a replacement. This should be very soon." Harry studied the eyes. _Is he pleased? _he wondered.

Snape walked down the row of desks. "You should know that you are now of an age that should there be a need, you would all be recruited to fight in a battle against the Dark Lord." Several people drew gasping breaths and looked at each other with frightened eyes.

"It is for that reason that we will work very hard to prepare you," he said smoothly. He slowed down at Harry's desk and then turned and went back.

"If this is not a serious enough task for you, and I find anyone dawdling at their work OR TREATING IT LIGHTLY, you will find yourself EXPELLED from this class. If you feel that you absolutely cannot face the possibilities then you are released from this class. Please, LEAVE NOW!"

Everyone sat frozen in place. Harry glanced over and saw Malfoy. He looked absolutely enthralled.

"It's my understanding that some of you have already learned, in another forum," he cleared his throat, "how to do the PATRONUS Charm. That will be helpful, since the Dementors have left Azkaban prison." Harry noted with pride several of the members of his late D.A. group glance at one another. "It will up to the rest of you to catch up."

Snape stopped in front of Ron and Hermione. "We will also be learning how to do the UNFORGIVEABLE CURSES." The whole class let out a collective gasp. Snape watched them. "It's my understanding that Professor Moody has already demonstrated the effect to you." Snape ignored Hermione's hand. "It will be my job to show you how to perform them," Snape said. He turned his back and walked to his desk and then stopped once again to look directly at Hermione. "Yes, Miss. Granger? You had a question?"

Harry once again found himself wanting to grin for the second time in the day. It was clear that Snape had caught Hermione off guard. She stammered, "I…I thought they were illegal, Professor."

"That hardly matters now, does it Miss Granger?" Snape said and shook his head as if frustrated at addressing a bunch of dunderheads. "I think you all fail to realize, the Dementors are out of Azkaban and more than likely joining with the Dark Lord, WHO is alive and well and out there in the world. If you do not fully UNDERSTAND… then perhaps we should start with a history of DARK magic." Snape picked up a book from his desk and waved his wand over it. Copies appeared on each desk and in front of each student.

Harry knew why Dumbledore had chosen Snape for the job. Who knew more about the Dark Arts?

He also found that Snape had not changed his style when it came to giving homework. By the end of class, Harry felt sorry for anyone who had not been in his D.A. group.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

"Excuse me?" a voice from behind startled him. Harry turned to look directly into Hermione's face.

"Yes?" Harry growled. He had to work hard to control the hand that automatically went to his head to cover his scar. He struggled with the memory of his face reflected in the mirror at The Leaky Cauldron the morning he left for Hogwarts. That's the face she would be looking at.

Hermione swallowed hard. "Last year…I… several students were part of a group. We called ourselves the Defense Association. We sort of held the group in secret so we could learn to defend ourselves, you know learn Defense Against the Dark Arts. We had a very poor teacher last year for our regular class."

Harry stood silent.

"Well...we did have a very good teacher for our group. He was a student here. I don't know if you knew about… about Harry Potter." Hermione choked. She stopped glanced down and seemed to gather herself.

Harry clenched his fists and said calmly, "I heard he died."

Hermione flinched and tears welled in her eyes.

"Whatta ya crying for?" Harry asked. He knew he was being mean but it was important to act differently then he normally would.

"Well…" She flinched and then once again pulled herself together and said, "I just wanted to invite you to the group that's all. We've decided to continue to meet.

_Leave it to you, Hermione, to invite a Slytherin_, Harry thought. "Whose gonna teach it?"

"We, …I thought those of us that were in it last year, I thought we would take turns," she said, hurriedly. "Since you're new to the school, we weren't sure if you might need the extra help." She looked in his face, "or maybe you know a lot and you can teach one of the classes."

"Don't think so." Harry turned to go.

"Hey, what do you think you're doing? Leave her alone," Ron was advancing on him with his wand out.

"Ron, it's alright!" Hermione said.

"You leave her alone, you dirty stinkin', Slytherin!" He stopped and started to utter a curse, his wand pointed into Harry's face.

Harry's reflexes were too quick. He had his wand out, "EXPELLIARMUS!" Ron's wand flew from his hand.

Hermione stared at him, her mouth open in astonishment. Ron reached for his wand that slid mysteriously across the floor to his feet like a boomerang. He stooped and picked it up very slowly.

Harry turned and walked very quickly down the hall. When he turned the corner a hand reached out, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into a dark classroom.

"That was very clever, PANE," Snape said.

"I just reacted without thinking," Harry answered coolly, straightening his robes and turning to look at the man.

"You went to a lot of trouble to change your identity. That little mishap could have cost you a lot," Snape's voice was cool but not cold.

"Don't lecture me," Harry said angrily. "I know when I've made a mistake." He turned to leave.

"By the way," Snape said, his face in shadow, "just how are we related? In case someone grows suspicious?"

"Why Snape, you're my Uncle Bulbie!"

"Very funny, Potter," Snape whispered.

Harry put his finger to his lips, and said, "Now who's being careless?"

Snape was looking at him with a strange look on his face. "You've done all of this to be able to fight the Dark Lord someday. I have come looking for you because I have found someone to teach you."

Harry studied him and finally asked, "And that person would be? You?"

Snape shook his head, "No, Mr. Pane, not me. I am not good enough to teach you what you need to know."

"And why would you do this for me?" Harry asked.

"To delay the inevitable, " Snape said.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

"Jolie!" The slim man walked into the light from the shadows. Harry was ecstatic. The little gypsy grasped him and hugged him about the chest. Snape stood by, arms folded over his chest in his best crow imitation and looked ugly. "You? Is it you?" Harry cried.

"Yes, Tommy," Jolie said, laughing, "it's me."

"You're my teacher?" questioned Harry.

Jolie nodded. He turned slowly around the room. "But not here, this is a dead place." He pinched his nostrils with his thumb and index finger. "It stinks in this place. It is mullo (dead)." He leaned in conspiratorially, "You live with ghosts, Amal (friend)."

Harry was amused and delighted.

Jolie turned to Snape and spoke in English, "Your Uncle, he come to me and say you need teacher. The best teacher." Jolie grinned broadly, " I have come."

Harry laughed. "Yes, the best." He watched the small man as he studied the room. And then Harry realized, "Have others come with you?" They spoke in Romani.

"No, No," he said. "Too dangerous. Besides in a few short weeks it will be winter. They go to stay in one place for the winter."

"How are they?" Harry stumbled over the words, "Nadya?"

Jolie tetter-tottered his hand as if to say, 'Iffy'. "Some time needs to go by before others are told that you live. It is safer that way."

Harry nodded, saddened by the thought that Nadya would also think he was dead.

"Come, we talk," Jolie said, and took him by the arm. Snape followed. Harry stopped and looked at Snape and Jolie prodded him in the back. "He comes, too."

Snape led the way through a false opening in the wall. They walked down stairs almost completely obscured by the dusky darkness that surrounded them. Harry could feel spider webs brushing his hair. There was a smell of mold and earthiness. _Where is this place? _he wondered.

They emerged in another room that Harry had never seen. It was small and circular and empty of furniture. It was clear to Harry that it was in one of the towers. There was an exit, with another set of full stairs. This side of the building faced the forest as well, but on the opposite side of the castle from Hagrid's hut. Harry knew that Snape had chosen the route to keep them from being seen.

They entered the forest immediately and walked for some time in silence. Harry had never been in these woods before. He was mildly surprised that Snape was leading the way.

After climbing a gentle incline Harry was led to an area of rough terrain. There were large boulders spiking into the sky, vine-covered, obscured by an overgrowth of vegetation.

Snape stopped and waited. Jolie joined him. They both watched Harry.

Harry was puzzled. It was like they both wanted him to discover something or know something. He searched the boulder strewn area before him. And then he recognized what it was. These rocks had been set here on purpose! It actually began to take on the appearance of a an ancient stone village. There were windows, like large vacant eyes, carved in the stone, staring out at him. To some degree the openings even took on a intelligent human expression as if were watching and thinking..

Jolie motioned for him and waved him towards the door. "Here, come in here," he said softly. Harry climbed to him and Jolie led him into a cave-like room. Snape ducked his head and followed.

Harry sat on a stone bench. He admired the way the area was hidden. If they had not led him directly to the little stone cave city he would not have seen it.

"So let us talk," Jolie said, in English. Snape stood silently.

Harry nodded patiently.

"Your teacher, this Kalo (crow)," Jolie spoke Romani pointing at Snape, "has something to say to you. You will listen. Yes?" Harry frowned and Jolie poked him in the chest with the stem of his lit pipe and said firmly, "He is a very wise man, and knows many things. It would be foolish to disregard his information because you do not like each other."

Harry nodded, again. He no longer felt intimidated by Snape and thought of him only as part of the plan. Harry felt, that if pressured, he would simply walk away from Hogwarts.

He considered the man standing behind them, glowering and recognized that Snape was helping him and he needed the help.

"Speak to this boy," Jolie said to Snape.

"There are some things that you need to consider, Potter." Snape said. "Although Draco Malfoy is a spoiled brat, he is also the son of one of the most powerful Death Eater's in the Dark Lord's service. I see that you have already managed… Mr. Malfoy, so to speak, since he seems to be enthralled with you. However, you must be careful. Lucius has not seen Draco since before he was placed in Azkaban prison and undoubtedly they are destined to meet at some time. It would be wise to not have Lucius curious about this 'new' boy at school that Draco thinks so highly of."

"Point well taken, Professor," Harry agreed.

"Since you are in my House and Dumbledore is aware of the special circumstances concerning you, the two of us will arrange for you to have lessons with this man." Snape's eyes snapped to Jolie. "Hopefully you attended well to the exit from the castle and the path that led here?"

Harry nodded.

"Good. Then you will come here every evening after dinner. I will make excuses for your disappearance from the common rooms and Malfoy, as well as any teacher who questions your whereabouts," Snape spoke as if he had memorized a list.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said.

Snape's looked at him sharply to detect any sarcasm. "I will not repeat what I have said earlier about Miss. Granger and Mr. Weasley. Slip-ups cannot be tolerated on anybody's part," he said with a lecturing tone to his voice.

Harry desperately wanted to knock Snape over for a brief moment and then remembered the shampoo and haircut and the look on Snape's face. _I've forgotten myself_, he thought.

"Yes, Professor."

"You don't know, Potter, because you weren't born yet, but The Dark Lord is capable of many terrible things. You play a dangerous game with people's lives if you err in any way," Snape whispered.

There was a long silence. Harry felt his anger rise to the surface like molten lava. "Should we both accept responsibility for Sirius' death then, Snape? Because I recall very clearly what happened and what Dumbledore told me!" Harry was on his feet and they were face-to-face. Snape had done it. He had pushed the right button. "Stop telling me to be careful. I have accepted the part I played in his death."

"You need to learn control, Potter," Snape hissed.

"Did you do it on purpose? Did you go to Sirius and goad him like you always do?" Harry was raising his voice, " Pushing, pushing, pushing. Always in everyone's face! What did you say to him, Snape? 'Harry's gone to the Department of Mysteries to rescue you. He thinks Voldemort's got you. Are you going to go save him Sirius or let him die like you did James and Lilly?'." Harry was replaying and repeating aloud every thought he'd every had in his head about the circumstances of that meeting.

"Your godfather wouldn't listen to me!" Snape said, a heated but steady look in his eyes. "He was a glory seeker. I tried to stop him, but he wanted the Dark Lord all to himself."

Harry pulled his wand out and pointed it into Snape's chest.

"Want to kill me, Potter?" Snape put his arms out unexpectedly, "Then do it!"

Harry stood looking at Snape for a long time. Jolie sat puffing on his pipe, relighting it and continuing to watch. Harry slowly lowered his wand, keeping it tightly clenched in his hand.

"It is time you decide who you are at war with, Potter," Snape said and lowered his arms. "I went into the woods looking for you when you didn't return with Delores Umbridge. I thought that you were the one in more immediate danger. I couldn't stay and try and talk sense into Sirius, but I knew Dumbledore was on his way. I could only hope that Sirius would be sensible and stay until he arrived. I had to make a choice, Potter; you or Black." Snape's face remained calm. "There was no love lost between your godfather and me, that's true. Why should there be? You saw what happened in the Pensieve. You saw my memories."

Harry flashed back on the day he had stuck his face in the swirling milky substance in the Pensieve and watched as Sirius and his father had humiliated Snape in front of a crowd of Hogwarts students, his mother being among them. _Harry couldn't help but feel the burden fall back on his shoulders. He couldn't blame anyone else, not even Snape. _He slumped back on the stone, staring at the man dressed in black.

Jolie waved his pipe at Snape who left the room quietly.

They sat in silence until the light began to go and it grew chilly. Autumn was coming.

In the next few days, the rumor had spread that the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher was about to arrive. Harry had been impressed by Snape's skill in the subject, but found it hard to be around him. Harry even wished for the days when Snape had treated him badly.

Harry wished for a lot of things. He wished someone would beat him up; hurt him. He now relished the pain he felt when he saw his old Gryffindor friends or when he caught sight of Hermione and Ron. He deserved every moment of sadness and despair that came his way. He was drowning in grief and self-hatred. He could not stand the thought that Sirius had brought about his own death out of self-arrogance or stupidity or rebelliousness.

Jolie did not try and dissuade him from his ranting. They got no work done while Harry paced the dirt floor of the little cave room every evening, suffering in silence while Jolie stared into the flames of the little fire and smoked his pipe.

One afternoon, sitting in the library studying, Harry overheard a conversation. It was very faint. His trained ear knew who was speaking. It was Hermione.

"Remember Ron? I didn't even think of it until I saw him disarm you." She was whispering. "It was the first day back at Hogwarts. The carriages."

"What about them?" Ron asked.

"I know I didn't see them. You know, the thestrals that pull the carriages. You're supposed to see them when someone you know has died." She went on, "Did you see them?"

Harry couldn't see him but knew from the silence Ron was shaking his head.

"Shouldn't we have?" Hermione asked.

"Maybe it's only if a family member dies. And Harry wasn't related to us." Ron answered slowly. "That's probably it, Hermione."

There was silence.

"Oh, you're probably right." There was a sound of crying.

"Don't Hermione, please?" Ron's voice was weak. "I miss him too. We can't bring him back."

"I KNOW, RON WEASLEY!" Hermione said much too loudly. More sobbing. "I JUST HATE SIRIUS BLACK!"

"Hermione! He's dead," Ron said.

"Well, so what!" Hermione's tear-filled voice grew louder. "He was a fully grown man! He didn't stop to think about what he was doing!"

"Hermione, we've been over this a dozen times," Ron's voice pleaded.

"And Snape!" she cried.

"Not again Hermione," Ron whined, he was losing the battle.

"He should have insisted on teaching Harry occlumency." Hermione's voice was muffled. It sounded to Harry like Ron had grabbed her and was holding her face to him.

"We can't bring him back, Hermione," Ron said. "And we can't keep trying to undo it all. If Harry were here today, he'd be all over himself again, just like he was… he was before," his voice shaking. "And what good would that have done? Remember when he saved dad?"

"Mmmhm," Hermione mumbled.

"I know he thought he was responsible for that, too." Ron went on, "Harry was my best friend Hermione. My best friend! And I know that he had it bad, being The Boy Who Lived and all. I wouldn't have traded places with him for anything."

Hermione mumbled something again.

"Well, okay, I got jealous once," Ron said. "But he just got it in his head that it was always up to him to save the world, Hermione. And that was big headed, cuz he wouldn't ever ask anyone for help. He didn't stop to think that we're all facing the same thing."

"He did it to protect us," Hermione argued.

"Yeah, well he could've put more trust in our ability to take care of ourselves! That's all I'm sayin'. He could have come to Gimmauld Place instead of running away. He could have believed in us!"

There was a long silence.

"You know don't you, " the voice was a long drawn out drawl and came from Luna Lovegood, "it wasn't Sirius' fault or Professor Snape's or even Harry's. None of this would have happened if it wasn't for Voldemort."

There was a sharp intake of breath.

"I just think we ought to start blaming the right person, that's all," she said. "Sometimes people just die because they make a mistake."

Harry heard no more as they walked away from his hidden area. He remembered the conversation he'd had with Luna before leaving Hogwarts the previous year. She had told him her mother had died because of an experiment she was doing that went wrong.

_Yeah_, he thought, _sometimes people just make mistakes._


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Harry woke to a new day and found, when he opened his eyes, that the ever present anger and regret was gone. Something about having overheard Ron and Hermione's conversation had drained away the venom that remained inside. He woke with new resolve. He needed to focus on his job.

He was looking forward to the day. Classes were ending early so that everyone could watch the first Quidditch match of the year. It was going to be Hufflepuff against Gryffindor. Harry had mixed feelings about not being out there himself. It would be his second year since he had been banned from the team the prior year. He missed his Firebolt and the feeling of flying out on the pitch. It was going to be a perfect day; one in which he would get to watch Ron and Ginny playing for the first time. The sad reminder was that he was no longer in Gryffindor but in Slytherin. He would have to look like he was cheering for Hufflepuff.

Harry entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts class behind everyone else thinking about this. He expected to see Snape's tall dark presence standing at the head of the classroom. He was not there. Instead, Dumbledore stood at the front of the class. And beside him stood a little witch, dressed in muggle clothing. At least Harry thought she was a witch. She looked like someone's grandmother.

He heard several people mumbled around him. Malfoy, his ever present snitch leaned over, 'There he goes again. Dumbledore picked another loser. I should have stayed home this year. When father returns he could have taught me all I need to know."

"Shut up," Harry said to him simply.

Malfoy looked at him with a little fear in his eyes and beat a retreat to another desk across the room.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats quickly," Dumbledore smiling. When the room had quieted, he turned to the diminutive woman and said, "I would like you to meet Professor LeClair." The little grandmother smiled charmingly through her half-glasses. "Madam LeClair comes to us from the Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore said bowing slightly. When he did this Harry noticed another figure slightly behind both of them, it was Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.

There were many in the class now that were groaning. Harry understood their misgivings. Fudge was the person responsible for having made their lives miserable the previous year.

"Minister?" Dumbledore stepped aside and let the portly man step to the front.

"Yes. Thank you Dumbledore," he nodded nervously. "Yes, yes you all have a treat, I do say. Madam LeClair comes from our Department of Mysteries and is quite a capable witch." The hairs on Harry's neck rose when he listened. "I am here to give my personal voucher for Madam LeClair. Professor Dumbledore and I agree that this year's class will be exceptional in that the Ministry has given permission for you all to actually learn how to defend yourself against the Dark Arts." Cornelius looked over to Dumbledore as if for support. It was clear Cornelius had lost a lot of his pomp and pretentiousness.

"Perhaps Minister, we should let the teacher carry on," Dumbledore said. He smiled benignly at the class and waved his hand to the door.

"Yes. We should. Well," Cornelius bowed slightly to Madam LeClair, "good bye everyone." He preceded Dumbledore from the room. The class followed their exit and then in unison swerved back around to study the little lady.

"Hello, hello!" Madam LeClair smiled ingratiatingly and walked down the aisles. "Yes we have lots to learn, lots and lots. Things to do, places to go and so." Harry noticed several students raise their eyebrows. He was beginning to think people would be calling the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, Dumbledore's Folly.

"Let's talk about these things shall we? Professor Snape has discussed several of them with you. Of course, we'll want to learn lots of jinxes, spells, charms, potions and lotions and fiddly-dee. Ha!" She laughed. " Lots and lots of surveillance," she did a spin to show her muggle clothing, "camouflage, concealment, death traps, torture and all kinds of lovely things like that. Everybody, WAND OUT!"

She impressed the class by immediately blasting away chips of the classroom ceiling when she shot stunning spells at black buzzing flies. "A good Stunning spell of course does not blast their guts all over, "she instructed, graphically. "But of course we can't expect much with flies. For a really excellent effect we must have something bigger. I like to practice on… eggs." She drew her wand through the air and produced a basket of eggs. "Alright everyone, pair up. Someone will levitate the egg and the other to blast it out of the air. Hip-Hip Hooray! I say, hurry, hurry along."

Harry was mildly amused at the egg practice. It wasn't just that everyone got soaked in egg yoke and that they then practiced Scourging Charms, but that the little Professor chose such a benign object. He thought sure he would see her practicing on something a little more challenging. If they were going to be soldiers in an army, they needed to face something a little more frightening then egg in the face. Still, Harry was satisfied when he left the classroom and started down the hall. _They were headed in the right direction,_ he thought.

Hermione was the first to find out who he was.

During the Quidditch match, Harry felt a tug on his sleeve and a First Year student from Slytherin was signaling that Harry should follow him. Harry was on the edge of his seat watching Ron as Gryffindor Keeper and Ginny as Chaser. Together with the rest of the team they were giving Hufflepuff a good run. Harry's reluctantly had to admit that Gryffindor's almost all-new team was not bad. George and Fred had left the year before and were now replaced by Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil.

Harry slipped away from the box and followed the boy into the castle, where he was instructed him to go to Dumbledore's office. Harry had not been in the office since the previous year and hesitated for a few minutes. He knew his way there and found it easily enough but stood at the entrance. Harry regarded the door with some misgivings; it brought back painful memories. He also had no idea what the password was. It seemed that Dumbledore was in the habit of letting people guess the password.

"Chocoballs… Fizzing Whizbees…Pepper Imps…Fudge Flies…Lemon Drop," Harry was naming every candy he could think of and the doors did not open. _Dumbledore! _Harry thought furiously, _How am I suppose to get in_? "Chocolate Bonbons!" At last! The door opened silently.

Harry stepped onto the stairs and let them carry him to the entrance to Dumbledore's office. He wondered what would cause Dumbledore to send for him. He entered the outer room with its customary silver instruments whirring on tables, the claw-footed desk and other assorted familiar items. He recalled the room exactly as he had left it the year before. In a fit of rage and grief he had smashed furniture and instruments. They now stood in order, repaired and back in their places.

The room was empty with the exception of a red-plumed bird that perched behind the desk. Setting a small distance away was another bird perch, this one occupied by a large white, snowy owl.

"Hedwig!" Harry burst out. She ruffled her feathers stretched and in one swoop flew to his arm. Her happy squawking noise brought Dumbledore into the room from behind a large tapestry.

"Ah, Harry, I see you've found your friend. Good. I think Hedwig has missed you almost as much as you have missed her."

"Thank you for taking care of her for me, Professor," Harry said.

"My pleasure," Dumbledore said, " Now come this way. We are having tea in my private quarters."

Harry followed with Hedwig now riding on his shoulder pecking away at his ear. He had never been in Dumbledore's private quarters and was surprised at the invitation. He entered a large sitting room with very beautiful furnishings. The ceiling was very high above them and tall windows let in sunlight onto the polished emerald-tiled floors. The room was warmed by the abundance of plants that grew in pots placed around the room. There were tall bookcases filled with books, and tables stretching out into open spaces with all kinds of parchment scrolls laid out on them.

Harry glanced over to the large fireplace and saw two people sitting waiting for them; Jolie and Snape. He joined them as Dumbledore led the way and waited for him to sit. Harry smiled at Jolie but pretended to be stroking Hedwig rather than look at Snape.

"Harry, we thought it best if we had this meeting when others would not miss your presence," Dumbledore began.

Harry waited. He knew it must be very important for the three of them to meet him in this way.

"We think it is time to give you information," Dumbledore handed him a cup of tea. "To fill you in on how things are going. I have invited Mr. Pulani to join us because he will play a major role in what is or is not to come later."

Harry glanced at Jolie who looked at him with a serious expression on his face. Gone was the smile with the flashing tooth.

"Go ahead." Harry said, bracing himself.

"Several things concern us, Harry," Dumbledore began. "Voldemort and his followers have done nothing…nothing, that tells us they are active. Following your 'demise' , we thought perhaps he believed he'd cleared the way and could pursue his endeavors. The members of the Order have reported nothing; no suspicious deaths, or disappearances. All of these acts alerted us to his intentions before." Dumbledore stirred his tea thoughtfully.

"We have two choices before us, Harry. We can wait and see what he does or we can try and bring him out into the open."

Harry swallowed with some difficulty and nodded.

"Either way, there is a possibility of danger. If we wait, then he chooses the time and the place and the people. He has time to build an army and, so on. There are many disadvantages in allowing that to happen. There are advantages in that we can do the same. As you're aware, people now believe that he is alive." Dumbledore stopped and watched Harry. "We are drawing people to our side even now."

"Harry, Tom Riddle thinks that the only thing that stands in his way now is, me." Dumbledore sipped at his tea, once again staring into the cup. "At least that is what everyone tells me." He sighed, and said, "And it's probably true. For that reason I am particularly concerned about being here at Hogwarts and endangering the students."

"But you can't leave, Professor," Harry said. "What good would that do? Besides Hogwarts is suppose to have all kinds of enchantments and protections. Can Voldemort penetrate those?"

Dumbledore looked up. "I don't know, Harry. I don't know the extent of his powers since he's been revived. I realized, once again, how very little I did know when Death Eaters entered your Aunt and Uncle's house this past summer."

The room was silent. Harry sat watching him, his teacup steady in his hand.

"I do know that we can drive him to us. In that way we know where his energies lie and perhaps keep him busy. In that way, Harry, the rest of the world remains safe," Dumbledore said.

"What you're saying Professor is that we become the target," Harry began. "I thought you had agreed to my plan. That you would give me the time to prepare. If you bring him here, I cannot fight him and win."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Harry. But I do not suggest we draw him to us so that you can confront him. Hear me out if you will?"

Harry nodded again.

"I think that we can do something that will give us all time to prepare. I did not think it possible until you met your friend, Mr. Pulani. And, I think…" Dumbledore nodded, "I will let him explain."

Jolie stood and walked to Harry's side. He turned to the others. "We will speak in Romani." Dumbledore nodded and Snape sat stiffly staring at the opposite side of the room.

"Harry. Do you remember our words in the dark, of the Kalo Beng?" Jolie asked.

"Yes, of course, I do Jolie," Harry said and sat his tea aside.

"Your Professor Dumbledore has told me many things. He told me of an incident two years ago when this Beng rose from the dead, in the mimori (graveyard)," Jolie said and shook his head.

Harry knew that to talk about these kinds of things was abhorrent to the man and said, "Yes, Jolie."

"He says that The Dark Devil drew your blood?"

"Yes, his servant cut my arm and took my blood to use in a potion. He submerged himself in it and was reborn," Harry recalled the night in vivid detail; his transportation from the Triwizard maze, the death of Diggory, all of it.

"The Romani believe that the blood is life. It is where the soul is." Jolie's face broke out in sweat and he said, "He was able to be reborn from your living blood. Part of your soul was taken so that he could live." He nodded at Harry's horror-stricken face. "And, before that, your mother gave of her's by her sacrifice to you. Dumbledore says that you share this Beng's feelings and thoughts."

"I haven't," he protested weakly, " Not since last year. He stopped trying to possess me." Harry turned to Dumbledore and spoke in English. "My scar hasn't hurt. Voldemort hasn't tried to possess me. I thought it was because I was dead. Is that why I'm here, to learn occlumency?"

"Amal (friend)," Jolie grabbed his arm, "calm yourself and listen to what I have to say."

Harry stopped. His heart was pounding. _Where is this going? _he wondered.

"I told you once that we gypsies have many magics that the Gadjo do not know. When the Black Devil took your blood with force and used it, he did not know that what he took would also take from him! You are linked to him by a covenant of blood," Jolie's eyes burned when he spoke. He continued in a whisper, "I have the knowledge to brew a potion, using your blood and the ashes of your mother. If he drinks of it, it will steal your soul, your life, back and he will weaken."

Harry sat back in shock. _Use the ashes of my mother?_ he thought in horror. _Just like Voldemort did in the graveyard!_ He had used dust of the bones of his father to bring about his reformation. "Will it kill him?" he asked, stumbling over the words.

Jolie let go of the Harry's arm. "No!" He turned away. "Still we can take away his strength. The full force of his actions will circle back on him. Harry," Jolie swung around, "he has much blood on his hands." Jolie stood and walked to a window; he stood staring out for several minutes before finishing, " he will never know why he is in such agony."

Harry realized he was holding his breath. He had to think about all of it. He found it difficult to swallow because his mouth was dry. And then, he looked at Snape. _Why is he here?_

Dumbledore saw the lookand said quietly, "Professor Snape has volunteered to find a way for Voldemort to drink the potion."

Harry thought his stomach would bring up his breakfast if it hadn't been hours since he'd eaten. He turned and stroked Hedwig who perched on the arm of his chair. He desperately needed something reassuring.

They waited for him.

Harry didn't know what to think. Could he… could they go on for two more years if Voldemort started an all-out war? Did they need to be on the offensive? What if it didn't work? Would Hogwarts be in danger? Yes, probably, but not more than anyone else. And maybe less if Dumbledore left. But Dumbledore could protect him and he couldn't if he left. Harry would be vulnerable. _But that was being selfish_, he told himself. How could they draw Voldemort to them unless they let that he, Harry, was still alive? That had been the plan, to start rumors over time. But not now! _It will be like grabbing a serpent by the tail_, Harry thought.

"You have to have the ashes of my mother?" Harry asked quietly, still stroking Hedwig.

Dumbledore stood and walked to the mantel. He took one of a pair of golden chalices from it and walked over and sat it in front of Harry. Harry gulped. "These are your parents, Harry," Dumbledore said.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Harry stumbled from Dumbledore's office numb with shock. He didn't notice that students were swarming the halls as he walked along. Suddenly, it seemed that there were too many people and too much pressing in on him. Instead of turning towards the Great Hall and to dinner, Harry escaped through the front entrance and walked down to the lake. He was half-way around when he felt the familiar weight and talons of his owl, Hedwig.

"Oh! Hedwig!" he stroked her. "You have to go back to Dumbledore." She bit his ear in irritation and Harry could feel blood run down his neck. Removing her from his shoulder he stretched his arm, and shooed her gently, "Go! Go!" She took off and flew off into the sunset. He stood staring after her until she was gone.

"Harry?" a voice behind him spoke.

He turned. It was Hermione.

"I knew it was you," Hermione said. She stood watching him, her eyes shining bright with unshed tears.

Harry was too overwhelmed. He didn't react. She was on him in the seconds it took for him to draw breath. He hugged her back and buried his face into her hair. The months of pain and sadness and worry spilled out. He began talking until he ran out of breath.

He was relieved that they stood in the dark. He told her everything and left nothing out.

When he finished he watched her face.

"Oh, my!" she sighed. She continued to hold his hand and squeeze it. "We have to tell Ron you know. He would never forgive either of us if we didn't. He loves you too, Harry."

He nodded, and replied, "Yeah, I agree. But you do understand Hermione the risk that both of you will have to live with. This is so delicate, if news gets out too soon all I've done will be useless. Lots of people are going to be hurt, it could go badly and our advantage would be gone."

"Yes, I think I do understand," Hermione murmured.

"Hermione you have to tell me honestly if you think Ron can handle all of this. He can't tell anyone, not Fred or George or his dad or anyone."

Hermione turned. He could see her face in the moonlight that was just beginning to glow orange in the east like a big pumpkin. "He's changed Harry. We both have. After losing you, I think we both grew up," she spoke softly, "I mean, it didn't feel real, even after we had the fight in the Department of Mysteries. We didn't experience Sirius' death like you did. It just felt like we could never be in danger as long as Dumbledore was around. But we've been at Gimmauld Place all summer, Harry. Your not the only one whose in danger now. We all are. It's not just your war anymore."

Harry studied her face in the dim light and remembered the conversation in the library. "I could use your help," he said. Her eyes widened in surprise and then she nodded.

They planned a meeting to talk to Ron. Harry had long since given his Invisibility Cloak to Snape and knew that Snape needed it more than he did. He'd not asked for it back. Yet under the strict rules being implemented, Harry didn't want Ron or Hermione to get caught out of bed at night. Nor did he want to be caught. Although he knew that Snape wouldn't do anything about it except give him detention, he did not want his freedom limited.

He and Hermione agreed to meet in the Room of Requirement where the Defense Association continued to hold their meetings. She told him about the meetings and filled him in on what had happened over the summer and then they walked back to the school in the shade of the trees and separated at Hagrid's hut.

Going to the Room of Requirement at the designated time was a lot harder than his trips to the forest and the caves. Harry usually found those trips safe from curious eyes and prying eyes and he supposed that Snape had made that possible. This trip was definitely not sanctioned by Snape, he thought as he sneaked out of the Slytherin Common room and made his way out of the dungeons..

He wished he still had the Marauder's Map, he could use it to find Peeves or even Mrs. Norris. With fingers crossed and wishing himself luck, he crept down the corridors and up a stair case to the third floor and wasn't disturbed. He felt the tense as he walked back and forth in front of the area, thinking, _I need to find a place to meet_ _Ron and Hermione. It's really important_.

The door appeared as expected. Harry glanced down the hall and when he heard no one, he entered.

Ron and Hermione stood beneath a lamp, the only one lit in the room.

Harry noticed that the room was different. It didn't look the same as it did when he had taught Defense Against the Dark Arts to his friends. This time it was smaller and cozier like a sitting room.

Ron remained where he was, skepticism written all over his face. "You'll have to prove to me who you are?" was all he said.

Harry stared at him, thinking about the remark. Ron did look different, almost defiant. Harry wasn't sure he was going to be able to say anything that would convince him who he was.

"Ron…" Hermione began, but they both turned to her. She quieted immediately.

"The first day we met, on the Hogwarts Express. You showed me Dumbledore's card in the chocolate frog." Harry said, "You said you collected them." He stopped, waiting for a response." Ron continued to stare at him. "You were the only one there when I got my dad's Invisibility Cloak from Dumbledore Christmas morning. " Harry once more paused and stood waiting for a response. Then, he said, "You looked in the mirror of Erised and saw yourself as Quidditch captain."

Ron shuddered visibly, but remained still.

"I'm not going to stand here all night and wait for you to decide if I'm who I say I am or not!" he said, angrily. "You can believe what you want." He turned and took a step toward the door.

"Harry?" Ron spoke.

"What?!" Harry whirled around. He was angry.

"You always did have a hair-trigger temper, mate!" Ron was over to him in a heart-beat and giving him a quick hug.

Harry was still mad and, happy at the same time and said hotly, "Do not!"

Hermione stood in the shadows, tears glistening in her eyes. Harry glanced over and reached out an arm; the other hugging Ron. She joined him, so that they were three.

Harry slipped into the Slytherin common rooms in the dark and made his way to his bed. Malfoy lay quietly asleep his bed curtains open. Harry sighed in relief and slipped between the covers. He fell asleep, all but one burden removed from his heart..

He had told no one about the infiltrator.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

Jolie worked him hard and Harry was finding that his increased class work was also difficult. What made it easier was knowing that Ron and Hermione knew he was alive. He admired their ability to completely ignore him as they had done before when they didn't know he was alive..

Harry slipped into the room in the castle Snape had shown him in the night he met Jolie and made his way down the well of stairs, out the door and down the next flight of stone steps and into the woods.

It was dark outside and cold in the late Autumn, just days away from Halloween. Jolie told him that Halloween was the night they would prepare the potion for the first time. Snape would have to be present as part of the overall incantation; something Harry was not pleased about. It gave him some satisfaction to know that Snape was not aware he had informed Hermione and Ron of his identity.

The tiny gypsy man was waiting for him. The tasks and work they did was not fun, but Harry did enjoy Jolie's company.

"Hello, Amal (friend)," Jolie greeted him, "Mushto hom me dikava tute (I'm glad to see you.).

"So keres, (what are you doing) Jolie? Harry asked.

"I'm preparing tonight's lesson," Jolie said. He stirred a cauldron. "Sit, I want to tell you some things."

Harry found a comfortable seat.

"We gypsies, the Rom," Jolie began, "we have a way to travel that the Gadjo do not use. In order to understand it I must tell you about your spirit and the spirits that surround you." Jolie looked into the starry night, the campfire was shining on his face . Harry studied the face and the dark eyes and was awed by the wisdom he saw there. There had been amusement and joy and worry and other emotions that Harry had seen in Jolie's face, now he saw the intelligence and cunning.

Jolie was speaking, "My father told me about the trees one night. He called them the 'Standing Tall People'. He said they had a voice if a person would just listen. And, he was right. When the wind blew through the trees I could hear the voice but couldn't understand the words that the trees spoke. So he taught me to hear the language of the trees."

"He also taught me to listen to the stones that would lie all day with their faces turned to the sky and the sun. The stones had voices, too, and I learned to listen to their voices and understand their words. So, in each thing, he told me their was a spirit, sometimes a very powerful spirit. Then, I could talk to this spirit and it would help me or hinder me." Jolie pointed at the fire and said, "This fire. The Fire's spirit, when it is happy, warms me and cooks my food and sings to the night sky, pushing it back so I can see in the dark. When it is angry, it burns me. Ahayava (understand?)"

"Va (yes)," Harry said.

"The sky, it barks at me and throws light down. You call it thunder and lighting, we know it as the spirit of the heavens. The clouds it hides in cry tears that nourish the earth and it brings food and quenches our thirst. If the sky is angry, its' tears wash down hard as if the heart is broken and it drown us. Everything has a spirit," he said, "even you. There is a dark spirit and a light spirit; one that hurts and one that heals." He stopped and

added wood to the fire so that it blazed. "We call this spirit the soul, the life inside you, Harry." Jolie stripped leaves from a plant and sat them aside. "Tonight you will meet your spirit and learn to travel. Sometimes our spirit lives within and sometimes it travels when we wish it to."

Harry watched, fascinated; wanting to ask questions but afraid to interrupt.

"When you look into a quiet pool of water, what do you see?" Jolie asked.

"My reflection," Harry said.

"When the sun is in the sky, what follows you and never leaves you?" Jolie asked.

Harry had to think for a moment, "My shadow?"

"Va, your shadow. When you call out in the mountains and hear your voice come back to you, what is that?" Jolie lit his pipe.

"It's an echo," Harry said.

"No, it is the voice of your spirit returning your call, answering," he replied. "The voice, the shadow, the reflection, that is not you: that is your spirit. WE the Romani, "he pointed at himself, "we send him out to travel in our dreams. Sometimes, when he is needed we seek him through a vision and he walks. It is called Spirit Walking. That is what you will do tonight."

Harry sat looking at the cauldron while Jolie continue to prepare things. He had a tambourine at his side and several herbs that he was now preparing. Harry wasn't sure he liked the idea. He remembered having Voldemort in his mind as they traveled together towards the door in the Department of Mysteries. He nodded nervously. _If I'm going to trust anybody, it needs to be Jolie, _he thought

"Harry, the wheel of the new year begins during Samhain, what you call HalloweenThat is when the doors open between this world and the world of the dead. We will need your mother's help this Halloween when we prepare the potion. You will meet her at the door. That is the only way, and it must be done by your spirit. Ahayava?"

Harry nodded, feeling the sadness ripping through him once again. Jolie was saying he was going to meet his dead mother and ask her to use her ashes. He thought about it and sat feeling the coolness of the near-winter night freeze his blood. Even the fire did not warm him.

"We need her permission," Jolie said. He studied Harry's face. "Chav (child), we will stop if you cannot go on. But as was said in the meeting with your Dumbledore and Professor Crow, we have to poison the Kalo Beng. We have to stop him!" Jolie's black eyes burned with more than the light of the fire. "You will stand at the door of death and not pass its threshold and you will ask for her help."

Harry nodded.

"Tonight, if you were to travel, Harry, Who would you go and visit in your vision?" Jolie sat back. This time there was a small smile curving at his mouth, as did the curl of his moustache.

This was a surprise that Harry didn't see coming. "We're doing this tonight?' he gasped in surprise. "I can visit someone?" he asked.

"Va," Jolie answered. "It is probably wise to not visit a Gadjo with your first try because they will think that they are visited by a ghost." His eyes now twinkled.

"Nadya?" Harry whispered.

"Va," Jolie chuckled softly and picked up the tambourine. "Go visit that wild girl! Tell her Uncle Jolie will whip her for dancing with you." He laughed.

"Is this dangerous, Jolie?" Harry asked eagerly.

"No," Jolie answered lazily and stretched out. "What I have not yet told you is that you have an animal spirit and a creature traveling with you that will protect you."

"Who are they?" Harry asked frowning. He wasn't sure what Jolie was talking about.

Jolie looked into the dark and then called, "Caw, Caw!" Harry heard the bird before he saw it. Dante landed nearby and walked over to him. His yellow eyes, turning red from the fire, were staring at him and from the shadows, a voice spoke to him, "Hello, Traveler. I see the beasts have not eaten thee yet.?"

"Verillieon!" Harry stood, once again almost speechless with surprise. He thought that he would never see the wood elf again and was elated.

Jolie also got to his feet, then kneeled, took the hat from his head, lowered it and said, "May you always find peace in the wood land, an arrow for your enemy and a friend in me."

The elf bowed elegantly and murmured, "May thee always have a safe journey, Amal."

Harry watched and Jolie turned to him and said, "Our friend is an elf and deserves your respect. You will address him this way, always."

Harry knelt and spoke the words. Verillieon bent at the waist, his long golden hair draping down. "Latcho Drom, Chavo (safe journey, boy) ."

"We prepare now," Jolie said. He motioned for Harry to stretch out on a bed of grass. He began to beat on the tambourine, a slow walking beat that he called the Grai, the horse's gait. Just as Harry was closing his eyes he thought of something, "Jolie can Voldemort follow?"

"No! that Melalo (dirty one), he is Gadjo. No, keep quiet now!" His voice was husky.

Harry felt Jolie touch his forehead with a cool liquid and then his heart began to keep pace with the pace of the drum. He opened his eyes and found himself standing looking at the fire. He glanced over and saw his body laying on the ground. He felt as light as air and happy as if a great burden had been lifted from him.

"Come Traveler, we will walk the winds and call down the moon," Verillieon said. His voice was like music drifting on the wind. Harry drifted to his side waving to him and above his head Harry could hear the wings of Dante as he flew into the moon's light.

Harry stepped away from the body that felt so heavy and followed Verillieon. They walked into the night and flew, faster than he'd ever dreamed possible. His thoughts were on Nadya. They flew over mountains and forest and farm lands. The cold wind didn't touch him. It was such a wonderful feeling, he laughed aloud almost giddy with the feeling of it all.

In a hamlet, a fire burned in a little house. A empty wagon stood by a barn and horses stood quietly in a corral. Harry saw it and recognized the wagon, the vardo. It belonged to Katlana, Nadya's mother.

"Go there Traveler, but do not tarry long. We walk the winds tonight,"

came Verillieon's voice.

Harry stepped down from the sky as if walking down a staircase although his feet did not touch anything solid. He walked through the door and saw them sitting near the fire. Nadya looked up and was frightened.

"Mother! A ghost!"

Katlana pulled her daughter behind her and confronted Harry. Katlana was about to draw something from her pocket. It was probably going to be an amulet to ward off ghosts and evil spirits.

Harry found his voice, although it was the voice of an echo, " I'm alive Katlana. Jolie has helped me to walk and come to you." He felt strange, like he was floating, and noticed that his feet were slightly above the floor.

"Na rakesa tu Romanes? (can you speak Romani?)" she asked.

"Va," he answered.

Harry talked to Nadya alone while Katlana busied herself in the other room. It felt like minutes had gone by and suddenly he felt a hand on his neck. He was suddenly yanked away, out through the roof and into the night, "We must return now, Traveler, Dante guides the way. Follow."

Harry woke on the ground, feeling the pebbles grinding into his back. The fire was still burning and Jolie was sitting watching him, smoking his pipe.

"Welcome back," he said.

"How long was I gone?" Harry asked.

"It is near dawn," Jolie replied. "It looks like you had a pleasant dream Traveler."

"Wow," was all that Harry could think of to say.

He made the return trip to the castle just as the sun was rising and climbed the stairs up the dark well and opened the hidden door. He stepped through, looked up and froze. Standing on the other side of the room was a man. Snape. He had his back to the wall and was motionless. Raised in front of him, eye-to-eye, was a gigantic snake.

Harry knew that snake. It was Voldemort's. _I have found the infiltrator_, he thought. He looked into Snape's face, there was no fear there. _The man has nerves of steel_.

"Can you speak?" Harry asked Snape. The snake turned immediately. Harry kept his hand on his wand and spoke to the snake, "Where is your Master?"

"He bids me say hello," the snake hissed. "He will be pleased that I have found you."

"Speak your name," Harry said circling slowly, trying to put himself between Snape and the snake.

"I don't think so," it said and remained raised feet above the floor its' head swiveling, facing Harry.

"Speak your name or die," Harry produced his wand. " We have lived in each other's mind. You know me, I will kill you. It is better to serve me then to serve He-That-Causes-Pain." Harry said the words in parseltongue and watched the eyes. If the snake was going to strike he would see it in the eyes. Jolie had taught him that the snake would close it's eyes a split second before striking and he knew the venom would be lethal.

They moved in tandem and Harry had successfully maneuvered in front of Snape.

"Potter, what do you think you are doing!" Snape whispered so softly Harry thought a snake was at his back.

"Speak your name now!" Harry hissed, his hand flashed and sent the serpent flying across the room. It remained unharmed. "Shut up Snape! I'm trying to save us both."

The snake advanced slowly, "You did not kill me," it said.

"I am not like your Master," Harry said. "I do not kill for pleasure. You have forgotten yourself, serpent. Do not the animals in the forest kill only for food. Why do you serve this evil man. Speak, before I put an end to you." Harry was desperately trying to remember everything Jolie had taught him.

And then it said, "The evil one will kill me if I do not tell him you live. HE will know."

Harry knew that was coming and answered, "I will set you free."

An interminable amount of time went by, the snake lowered it's head, "I am Nagini."

"By speaking your name, you are free from your evil master," he said and lowered his wand.

"Potter," Snape's groaned through gritted teeth.

"Are you to be my Master, then?" the snake hissed.

"No. Go back into the hole you crawled from and come no more!" Harry pointed towards the door. The snake slithered slowly out the door.

"Potter. Do you realize what that was?" Snape was now in front of him almost shouting. This time he wasn't glaring, his face was white.

"It was His snake," Harry said, simply. "He won't come back."

They stood for the longest time facing one another. Harry couldn't read Snape's face. There were many things flashing over it.

"Will he go back to Him?" Snape finally asked.

"No, Professor." Harry turned to leave and said, "I think we are slowly but surely pulling Voldemort's fangs."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

It was only after Harry sat through a double potions class, with Snape tearing into him at every opportunity, did he remember something that Dumbledore had told him before. "When you save a wizard's life, Harry, they are in your debt." Snape had been horrible to him before just because James Potter, his father, had saved his life.

_I wonder what he's going to do to me now?_ he thought.

He spent the evening, during detention, redoing the potion from class until Snape was satisfied. Harry stood up to it as well as Snape had stood up to the snake. He didn't blink.

What did alarm him was the pain that shot through his scar and awakened him in the night. It was the first time he felt it in months. He knew immediately Voldemort was having a raving fit. Afraid that he would give himself away, Harry searched desperately in the dark to find his robe. He once again slipped out in the night and went searching.

"Professor?" he called and knocked on the Potion Master's door, hanging on the best he could out of fear he would faint dead away at the man's doorstep. He had never been to Snape's living quarters and only hoped that the door near the Potion's classroom was the right one. The pain was blinding him.

The door opened, there was no light.

"What do you want?" it was his voice.

"My sc…scar," Harry's hands were holding both sides of his head and he was barely able to speak. "He's angry, really angry. Can't…can't let him know I'm here," Harry said and felt the world spin and then darkness swept over him.

He woke to discover Dumbledore's face looking down at him.

"I think he is awake now, Severus, and out of danger," Dumbledore's mused, his eyes were an incredible shade of blue from such a distance. "Harry wake up. You're safe."

Harry blinked to clear his eyes. Snape was standing close by.

"Thank you, Severus, for calling me." Dumbledore said and straightened up, "I'll leave you with him now."

"Very good, Headmaster," Snape droned.

Harry watched Snape follow the headmaster to the door and let him out. He sat up on one elbow and found that it took effort to not pass out once again. "What happened?" he asked.

"You passed out," Snape replied, handing him a cup. "Drink this draft, you'll feel better."

Harry drank without complaint and felt his queasiness ease. "Thank you."

Snape stood by, watched and waited.

"Do you think he was aware of me, Professor?" Harry managed to ask. This time he closed his eyes and lay back waiting for the potion to work.

"No," came the reply, "Drink all of it."

Harry sipped at the potion and upended it. it was bitter but seemed to have miraculous effects. He was able to sit once again without vomiting on Snape's oriental carpet or pass out.

Snape disappeared around the end of the sofa and reappeared with a small glass. It held brandy. "Now this."

"But…" Harry, took it and swallowed a mouthful. He felt weak and he tried to remain quiet. He didn't hurt any longer, even his scar was not hurting. It gave him a moment to notice Snape's quarters. They surprised him. He sat in a very clean, comfortable room with heavy, polished mahogany furniture, and a beautiful Chinese carpet. A green-shaded lamp lit a writing desk that was free of any papers. Harry had been lying on a leather sofa and had a woolen blanket draped over him.

"What am I going to have to do?" he asked. This time he really wanted Snape's advice. he did not want to go through that again and risk everything he had done. He did not want Voldemort to realize he was alive.

"The Dark Lord still does not know that you're alive," Snape said as if he were reading Harry's thoughts. "However, he is aware that he has lost Nagini," Snape said and sat down in a straight-backed chair. "This is a terrible loss for him. He will seek to avenge that loss."

"What does that mean?" Harry stuttered, "P-Professor." He glanced up to watch the man's reactions.

Snape shrugged.

"Does this jeopardize our plans?" Harry asked.

"No," Snape said.

Harry wasn't sure Snape would be honest with him. They stared at one another.

"It seems that our fate is entwined, Potter," he said. He took a small glass filled with brandy and drank it. Harry watched, fascinated. He thought to himself, that watching Snape like this felt very uncomfortable. He couldn't read the man.

"I'll be going then, Professor." He saw the clock on the table reading well past one in the morning. "I'm sorry to have bothered you so late," he mumbled and then stood and immediately found the room spinning. He didn't make it.

"Perhaps you should wait for that elixir to have an effect," Snape said. There was no condemnation in his voice or spitefulness, there was only calm sort of serenity.

Harry sat again and asked, "Professor, do you think we should begin occlumency lessons again?" He thought he would at least try to meet him halfway.

"Professor Dumbledore has discussed that with me," Snape said and took a sip of brandy, "I have not decided whether to pursue that or not," he murmured.

Harry was feeling annoyed, but once again tried to communicate, "If He," Harry emphasized the word, "is so angry. Will he call you to him?"

Snape was staring at the wall somewhere over Harry's shoulder and shifted his vision to look him in the eye. "He already has, Potter."

Harry looked back at the steady stare and felt a mild sense of shame. He knew that Snape was risking torture even possible death by responding to the summons. Voldemort was in a fury as evidenced by the pain in his scar and Harry had been responsible for that anger and the subsequent call to his Death Eaters.

"Did I make a mistake in setting the snake free?" He asked, dearly hoping that it had been the right move.

"I don't know yet," Snape admitted. "I haven't gone to him have I?"

"The snake was a spy," Harry continued.

"Yes."

"Under your control?" Harry ventured.

"No."

"Then it was dangerous. It could report everything to Vol…to Him." Harry sputtered.

"What was there to report, Potter?" Snape asked, coldly.

Harry sat back in surprise.

"Until you entered that room, Nagini did not know you existed," Snape continued, "There was nothing to report."

"Could you speak to it?" Harry gasped in sudden anger. "Do you speak parseltongue?"

Snape waited for a moment and then replied, "No, I can't. That hardly matters."

"I think it does!" Harry stood. This time he remained on his feet out of the sheer energy his anger gave him. For some reason he sensed that Snape wanted him to feel guilty, wanted him to think that he had made a mistake. "You have no way of knowing what information that snake took back to Him."

"No, Potter," Snape stood and sat his glass down. "But I think -I- " he emphasized the word, "shall soon find out." Harry realized for the first time that Snape was fully dressed and in a traveling cloak.

On Friday morning, the morning of Halloween, Malfoy coyly followed him around until he couldn't stand it any longer. "What is it?" Harry asked, gritting his teeth so that his jaw was working.

"Wanted to tell you," Malfoy said, "my father's coming home." He grinned and said, "Around Christmas time, he thinks. Would you like to meet him? Unless of course you want to go home to your parents."

Harry almost choked on the pumpkin juice he was drinking. He could just see the scene in his mind. There he would be, going home with Draco, just chummy as could be. They'd go into Malfoy's mansion and sit down to a nice cup of tea with Lucius Malfoy, a Death Eater in Voldemort's army. Not any old Death Eater, either. Voldemort's right-hand man!

" I'm an orphan, I don't have any parents," he spat out. "Let me think on it, Malfoy," he said. "It's a bit early. Halloween is just tonight." What was really on his mind to say was _Oh yes, Draco I'm all of a flutter to meet your mum and dad_; but he held back.

"Alright," he said. " Say, Tommy, we need another person on our Quidditch team. Would you like to try out? All I have to do is recommend you. They do anything I say, you know."

For the second time, Harry swallowed hard and felt pain in his chest. It was difficult to eat anything while Draco was present. " I don't play," he said.

"Right then, no problem." Draco sat looking at him. "Anyway, I wanted you to know that I won't tell anyone."

"Tell who what?" Harry asked, watching him closely. It was always a little difficult following Draco's line of reasoning.

"I saw you get up last night and leave the room," Malfoy said and looked around carefully. "It's alright, you can tell me what you were doing."

Ever since his father and several other Slytherin student's fathers, particularly Crabbe and Goyle, had been put in Azkaban prison, Draco Malfoy had been working to regain some of his former prestige. It certainly meant he was willing to break the rules and if possible get a number of people in trouble, most notably Dumbledore. Harry had overheard them plotting several little capers they were going to commit at Hogwarts and then blame it on one or more people including Gryffindors. He didn't want to get sucked into Draco's games and decided to tell the truth, " I went to Professor Snape's quarters. I was ill and he gave me a potion."

"You were in his rooms?" Malfoy's eyes twinkled when he asked. "Really? No one's ever been in them. Not even my father, and they are close 'friends', if you know what I mean?" Draco glanced around to see if he were being overheard.

_Yes_, Harry knew exactly what he meant. Malfoy was basically confirming that Snape was a Death Eater, too.

"Next time you go, let me know, will you?" Draco asked. "I'll pay you to get me in there. I bet he has loads of dark stuff in there."

They were interrupted by Pansy Parkinson. Harry was in a particular hurry to leave the lunch table. Pansy had been flirting with him over the past few days and he found it always upset his stomach when she did it.

"I'll tell you about it sometime, Draco," Harry grumbled and picked up his bag, heading out the door to Transfiguration class.

Harry knew what lay ahead that evening and he wasn't looking forward to it. However, it felt good to see Hermione and Ron in Transfiguration class. They both glanced at him keeping their composure and not letting on that they knew him. He had taught them a hand signal Jolie had shown him. Hermione crossed her fingers and scratched her nose so briefly that no one would have known what she was doing.

Harry nodded and sat at the back of the room. There were a lot of things that kept him from paying attention to the lesson. He wondered if Snape would return from his visit with Voldemort. He wondered what it was going to be like to see his dead mother. He wondered if their plans would work.

The classroom emptied before he realized he was left alone in the room with McGonagal.

"Is there something you wished to speak to me about, Mr. Pane?" she asked.

"No… no, Professor," he stuttered. He hastily drew his things together to beat a hasty retreat out the door. Without realizing it he had been daydreaming and left himself vulnerable. He was silently chastising himself. To be in McGonagall's presence, alone, was a mistake.

"I wanted to tell you, Mr. Pane, since you are here, "she said coming up to his desk. He stopped and dropped his eyes. There was nothing he could do but wait until she was finished. "Your work is very good for not having attended school before now."

Harry wanted desperately to reach up and cover his scar with his hand. McGonagal was an intimidating witch. If anyone was going to find him out, it would be her. "Thank you, Professor," he replied and used the accent that sounded like the Hungarian accent Jolie and his people used.

"I noticed that you were inattentive today. I thought you might like to talk to someone. You are new here and I have noticed that you have not made many friends," she said kindly, her brow knitted in worry.

"I like to be alone," he muttered and then turned to leave.

"Very well, Mr. Pane," she said to his back. "I am always available through the day if you wish to talk." Her voice sounded slightly wounded and he wished he could turn back and tell her the truth. She had always been very fair with him and keeping his secret disguise from her was very difficult, as much as it had been with Hagrid.

Harry thought that it was difficult to be back at Hogwarts and endure not having his friends around, living in Slytherin House and not playing Quidditch. What was making it so much harder was hearing kind words from McGonagal. He missed being himself.

Harry attended the Halloween feast and ate alone, slipping away early. He followed his old route, through the room, down the castle well, out, and down the steps into the forest. The moon was a full yellow, harvest moon. He knew the path without light and didn't use one until he reached the stone dwellings. As he walked, he heard the faintest sounds of a fiddle and then it was gone. A glimmer of light shone from a window. He ducked, pushing aside the cloth covering the opening.

Lupin stood before the fire. "Hello, Harry. You look well," he said grinning.

"Pro…Remus!" Harry walked into outstretched arms which returned his rugged hug. "You know about me!"

"Yes, Harry. I've known from the beginning. Dumbledore told only a few in the Order. Those he thought the Dark Lord could not interfere with," Lupin said gravely.

"But why are you here?" Harry asked and noticed Snape arrive. He was dressed in his old Romani clothes. His hair was clean and cut, but he looked dreadful. Harry turned back to Lupin. "Remus it's a full moon out tonight! How did you ever...?"

Jolie answered in English, "There are some final preparations for tonight, Harry." And then in Romani, "Avakai (come here)."

Harry left Lupin and sat by the gypsy who reclined on a mat, a fiddle by his side and smoking his pipe. His dark velvet eyes were half closed. They spoke in Romani. "The wolf is safe for now, but the moon calls to him. I have made it possible. He is your friend?"

"Yes, Jolie. Remus is my friend."

"He would die for you?" Jolie asked.

Harry considered the little man and spoke in English. "Yes, Remus would die for me. Why is he here, Jolie? And how did you ever make it so..."

Jolie shook his head and interrupted, "Too many questions Chavo. He is here to bear witness to the her'y (truth)."

At hearing his name Remus joined them. Snape also joined the circle but sat back, his hat on his head, pulled down over his eyes. Harry noted that even in the dark, he looked pale and sickly.

"There can be no hookamen (lies) between men," Jolie said and Harry translated. "Here tonight we pull back the veil between the world of living and dead. You cannot travel this road if there is a secret that lies between you. The dead know all and it's dangerous to try and deceive them."

Snape looked up, pain etched his face and Harry was puzzled. He knew that they were going to see his mother and gain her permission to use her ashes in a poison meant for Voldemort. But there was something happening here that he couldn't understand, especially Lupin. The man always transformed on a full moon and he sat with them looking as normal as he always did.

"Tonight you walk the great star highway," Jolie's continued his eyes glazed and staring into the distance. "First, you must speak your heart." He turned and pointed at Harry first. "Tell him," he pointed to Snape, "tell him your heart. You will walk as brothers; you must tell him! there can be no lies between you."

Suddenly, Harry knew what Jolie wanted. He looked at Snape and pondered his choices. He finally began, "I…when I looked in the Pensieve during occlumency lessons and saw what my father did to you when you were in school together; I wanted to blame you. I didn't want to believe that he was a cruel man. I've come to believe that what he did was wrong." Harry bit on his tongue and waited and then continued, "I've hated you for telling the truth about him. I also blamed you for not keeping Sirius from going to the Department of Mysteries, for taking away the last person I… I cared about."

Jolie turned to Snape and pointed his pipe at him.

Snape's voice was low and soft. "I loved your mother, I loved Lillian an your father couldn't stand it. He hated me. And I hated him for taking away the only person I ever loved."

Harry's throat constricted and a great roaring started in his head. He stared at the man who looked back with great sadness written in his face.

"No! No!" He said and shook his head. He was rising from the circle and he felt Remus' hand on his arm. Harry turned to the prematurely aging man.

"It's true, Harry," Remus murmured. "I was witness to it."

The room seemed to spin. He felt angry. Angry that people kept deceiving him, that he kept getting his memory of his parent's tricked. He was afraid, looking at Remus and then at Snape, who never removed his eyes from his face_. Who could he trust? No one had ever told him the entire truth!_

"No!" he said.

"She never loved me in return," Snape whispered it, "she only loved your father."

"Stop!" Harry shouted, struggling to rise to his feet and have the hand that held him pull him down again. "I can't bear this, I can't stand this!" He felt the tears of anger and frustration falling and wiped away at them with his arm. "Get off, Lupin!"

He shook the hand from his arm. "Haven't I given enough! I didn't ask to be born the Boy-Who-Lived!" he said venomously and felt himself tremble all over. " I don't want to know anymore!" Harry hadn't felt this bad since his rage in Dumbledore's office just before summer holidays. This time his anger was mixed with other feelings. The only pure memories he had were about his mother and they were now in question. _Snape and his mother! What did that mean, truly. Were they friends or something else? _He thought he would rather die than hear anymore. He felt his heart would break at any moment and he could not look Snape or Remus in the eye.

Jolie sat quietly, cross-legged, watching him. He nodded, pulled the pipe stem from his mouth and sprinkled incense into the flames. It had an instant calming affect on Harry.

He spoke gently and kindly, "We must do this now. Tonight is the only night. Now you walk as brothers."

"Jolie, they aren't ready, " Lupin said. "They're both in shock and Severus is hurt. How can you do this, it could very well kill both of them."

Jolie shrugged, "They understand. Tonight is the night." Jolie looked at Harry and asked gently, "Jin (understand)?"

"Va," Harry said, hoarsely. He felt as if he were drugged and all he could do was to look deep into the fire.

Snape nodded.

"Professor Crow," Jolie said and Harry translated, feeling as if he was almost in a trance, "Ne releesa tu Romanes (can you speak Romani)?

"Va," Snape answered.

"Harry, Si tut (and you)? he asked.

Harry nodded and mumbled, "Va, Jolie."

"Kusthi Bak (good luck)!" Jolie picked up the fiddle and began to play. It was very similar to the tambourine beat he had played before.

Harry's eyes began to droop and Lupin's face grew fuzzy.

Harry and Snape stood in the cave-like room looking back at their bodies collapsed beside the burning fire. Jolie was playing, laying on his back one leg crossed over the other. Once again Harry felt as light as the smoke that curled up the chimney.

He heard a sound and turned to see the silhouette of Verillieon standing in the doorway.

"Come, Travelers, we walk the stars."

They stepped out side by side, and Harry saw Dante's raven-wings circling over the face of the moon.

"Lead on, Verillieon." Harry said and flew into the brilliant cold night, the dark shadow of Snape beside him. It did not feel as exciting and light-hearted as it had the first time.

They traveled over landscape unfamiliar to Harry. He watched with interest the lights that appeared below and felt none of the feelings that lay back with his sleeping body. He experienced the gentle pull of the guiding light of the elf.

They moved with such speed that Harry once again wanted to laugh with joy. _This is wonderful! _he thought forgetting for a moment the things that had happened around the fire

The elf slowed them down and Harry stepped, as he had on the staircase, down

to earth and knew immediately where they were. They were standing in the overgrown ruins of his parent's house, in Godric's Hollow. He felt Snape standing beside him, although they didn't speak.

"Call to her, Traveler. "Verillieon's voice rained down from somewhere above his head. "Call to the one you wish to speak to."

"Mother?" Harry heard his echo voice calling eerily, "Mother, it's Harry."

A woman materialized in the ruins of the house. At first a cloudy, wisp of smoke and then a shape. She was young, with long auburn hair. She walked through the grass and Harry noticed he could not see it move. She began to take on a solid form until Harry could see the creaminess of her complexion and the pink of her lips in the full moonlight.

"Oh my love," she said, smiling. "I have longed to see you. You are such a man now."

"Mother," he gasped. Everything his heart desired was coming true. "I miss you. I love you."

"I love you too, Harry." She reached out a hand.

"Do not touch her, Harry," Jolie's voice was in his ear. "She is muladi (a ghost). She can't be alive for you anymore. If you touch her, you are mulo; you possess a corpse."

He pulled back his hand and they looked at each other with sadness.

She turned to Snape. Her lips did not move but they could hear her voice. It was filled with love and Harry couldn't help but glance over at the disembodied man at his side. "Severus, I'm so sorry your heart has been burdened all of these years."

"I'm sorry too, Lilly," Snape said gently. "I wasn't sure you knew."

She smiled and said, "How could I not know how you felt, after all the times I came to you and cried on your shoulder. You knew that I loved James."

"Yes, I know Lilly," Snape mumbled and dropped his head.

Harry couldn't look at him any longer and feel their shared emotion of longing and pain. He turned to stare at her caught up in memorizing every detail.

"And now you've called to me, Harry," she said smiling brilliantly and Harry could see a bright light glistening in her green eyes. "I'll always be grateful."

"We've come to ask you for your help," Snape said.

Harry was staring at his mother and had forgotten what their task was. He was shaken by Snape's abruptness. He just wanted to look at her and hear her voice. Not the voice that he heard screaming at the last moments of her life, but this voice; the sweet happy voice, the beautiful green eyes.

"What is it?" she asked, a frown appearing on her forehead.

"Tom Riddle lives, Lilly." Snape whispered. He looked at her with sad, worried eyes.

Her eyes grew fearful and her mouth formed in a big O and her essence seemed to fade a little. She looked at Harry, with fear in her eyes. She whispered her question, "What do you need?"

Snape told her.

"Yes, it is nothing," she answered still looking at Harry.

"We are sorry to bring worry to you," Snape said.

"You must leave, Travelers," Verillieon's voice spoke from the clouds sweeping over the golden face of the moon. "She can not linger here or she will wander the earth forever."

Harry fought the voice and pleaded, "No, no, I want to be with you mother. Let me stay!"

"No, my darling, you must go." She stepped back, fading even more with each step. Her voice echoed, "I will see you again someday. Severus take care of him. If you ever loved me, then take care of him!" And then, she faded from their view.

"Mother!" Harry's hand reached out.

Harry didn't recognize the familiar pull on the back of his neck until they were away.

He woke with the fire warming his face. Across from him Snape's black eyes watched him. Remus was gone and Jolie sat stirring a cauldron and said, "So be it."

For the second time in his life, Harry's arm was stretched out and a cut made with a knife. Snape mixed the ingredients that were handed to him. Bound by the spell, they worked together and didn't speak. Jolie stood by and instructed until the potion was completed. They worked through the night while the moon was still high in the sky.

When they were finished Jolie decanted a flask full of the finished potion. "Tell him," Jolie said to Harry, "the potion must be drunk before the day comes. Does he understand?"

Harry translated the words to Snape without looking at him. "He says it has to be drunk before daybreak."

Snape looked at him and nodded.

"How are you ever going to do that?" Harry asked, glancing up.

"It will get done," Snape said with none of his previous viciousness or sarcasm. He stepped out the door and Harry heard a familiar Pop! as he apparated.

Harry watched the door and thought, _he's gone to his death_.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter Twenty One

Harry joined the rest of the advanced Potions Class outside of the dungeon doors the next morning. He had spent the rest of the night and dawn, sleepless, and he rose early to shower and dress. He waited impatiently through breakfast, unable to eat.

_Has he returned? Did he do it? _Harry worried anxiously. It was all he could do to remain seated and not pace or fly down to Snape's quarters to see if he was all right.

Exactly on the hour, the door opened. It was Dumbledore. The students filed in and took their seats. Dumbledore stood at the head of the class, avoiding Harry's eyes.

"Good Morning, class," he said.

Most responded, " Good Morning, Professor Dumbledore." Some looked mildly intimidated by being so close to their headmaster.

"I'm here to teach your class today. Professor Snape has been called away on personal business." Many in the class whooped with joy. "Alright now, settle down, settle down." Hearing these words coming from Dumbledore was an all new experience. When Snape had said them it was usually stony and cold.

They spent the two hours of class in relative luxury. Dumbledore was very gentle and complimentary. "Oh that is very good Mr. Malfoy, excellent work." He made a slow progressive circle around the benches and steaming cauldrons until he got to Harry. "Hello, Mr. Pane. Yes that's the correct ingredient. Place it in, just so, and let it steep. Three minutes, no longer. Use your timer." His hand turned the glass over and the sand began to spill to the end. One hand was on Harry's shoulder and the other on the glass. When he moved on, Harry noticed a small slip of paper under his own hand.

_Come to me later. A. , _it read

Harry touched the paper with his wand and whispered quickly, ABSENTIA. It vanished.

In the late afternoon, after finishing with Herbology, Harry sped across the grounds toward the castle. He took a moment to glance over at Hagrid's hut and saw with some sorrow, Hermione and Ron leaving it. He hoped that they had been able to console Hagrid and reassure him. Harry missed his conversation with the half-giant, although on several occasions he had been unnerved by them. Particularly the day that he had ridden Buckbeak for the first time.

Avoiding teachers roaming the halls, Harry ran the full length, up the stairs and skidded to a halt in front of Dumbledore's guardian Gryffin. He uttered the password, "Chocolate Bonbons." The staircase began to move up.

"Professor?" Harry said immediately stepping into the room. There was a rather ornate tapestry with a phoenix and unicorn colts grazing in a meadow that hung from the wall and was pulled aside. It led into Dumbledore's private quarters. He stepped through and noticed Dumbledore, Remus Lupin and Jolie were waiting for him.

"Come in, Harry," Dumbledore said.

"It's bad news isn't it?" Harry asked nervously. he searched their faces and saw no hint of the answer to his question. "He's dead?"

"We don't know that for sure, Harry," Lupin said, looking his normal shade of gray, with some additional lines. He was still in his wolf phase, the moon was still full at night. Harry wondered what Dumbledore had done so that Lupin was there in human form. Or had it been Jolie again that had kept him from transforming? Harry wondered.

_  
_"Have you had anymore pain in your scar, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, nothing," Harry replied, touching his forehead, completely forgetting that it would be a means to determine how Voldemort was feeling.

They sat in silence.

"We have to go fetch him, Albus, " Lupin said slowly. He was standing and began pacing back and forth before a grand fireplace.

Dumbledore ignored Lupin and stared at Harry.

Harry's feelings from the previous night returned. He felt the anger return and said quickly, "I don't owe him anything Professor!" He knew the minute he said it that it wasn't the way he felt.

"I am not arguing with you, Harry. Professor Snape made the choice to take the potion to Voldemort, himself." Dumbledore said and looked away. " What he did, he did for all of us. He also knew the risks he took."

"Remember what happened the last time I tried to rescue someone?" Harry was still on his feet and looking at all of them. "You don't know that he's in trouble."

"Harry, once again, you are not here because we want you to rescue, Severus," Dumbledore said, gently. "On the contrary. We thought that you should be informed of the situation. That is all."

"That's all?" Harry sputtered.

He nodded. "We want you to understand that you are not to do anything about Professor Snape. This must be left in our hands." He motioned to Jolie and Remus. "We know that you would feel responsible and the three of us want to reassure you that we will handle this."

Harry stared at him. "That's why you called me to this meeting?"

"Yes, it was what Severus made me promise I would do if something happened to him. He expressly forbade your further involvement if this plan did not work," Dumbledore said. "He forbade anyone to act upon his behalf and I agreed."

"You did what?" Lupin snapped, spinning around to face him.

"In a moment, Remus," Dumbledore said and continued to stare at Harry.

Harry glared at him and retorted, "Fine. Good!" He turned and left the room.

Harry met up with Ron and Hermione in the Shrieking Shack during the next Hogsmead weekend. They had planned the meeting in some detail to keep anyone else from knowing of Harry's existence.

"So what are we going to do, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know Hermione, he could already be dead." Harry sat on the dirty floor, his memories of Sirius flooding back. It was one of the few happy moments he'd had with Sirius, remembering when he learned that Sirius wasn't guilty of being a traitor to his parents; when Sirius was going to be his godfather and they were going to live together.

Now, he felt mixed feelings. "You know, it seems like we inherit all of our parent's baggage," he said thoughtfully. He climbed to his feet and strolled around the room examining the rags that once were curtains. "You think you've got it all figured out, and then you grow up and realize it's all been lies. That you don't really know anything at all. And they go and make a mess of things and leave it for you to fix."

"What you talking about, Harry?" Ron asked. He was unwrapping chocolate frogs and using his wand to stun the little frogs and then popping them into his mouth. He'd already eaten over a dozen.

Harry shook his head in answer to his question.. Hermione spoke, "It feels that way Harry, but I don't think they had any more control over the way life turned out then we do. Your parents didn't intend for you to have to live with all of this. They didn't expect to die."

Harry turned to her. He could hear this from her. She was the only one who could put his thoughts in words. "No, they didn't." He thought of his mother, she had been a friend to Snape. How would she feel if he abandoned him to Voldemort.

"You forget Harry, Snape is the one who was going to let the Dementors suck the soul out of Sirius." Ron was glaring at him. "What do you want to go risking your life for him for?"

"Ron!" Hermione said recoiling in horror.

"Well it's true, Hermione. Your always on about how Snape has been on our side. When he's not been, not truly," he said.

"When are you ever going to believe me. Snape is working for us; he's working for the Order. He's switched sides," Hermione argued.

"You know what Dumbledore told me once?" Harry said, cutting into their impending argument.

They both looked at him.

"He said it's our choices that make us who we are. I don't care about Snape," he said, "but I do care how I feel about myself. I don't think I could live with myself if I let Voldemort torture and kill him." Harry was thinking of the look in his mother's eyes when she talked to Snape. _I don't think I can live with myself if I had to look you in the eye mother_, was what he was thinking, _and tell you that I abandoned him to that._

"So how are we going to go get him?" Hermione asked.

"If I do this Hermione, do you think that I'm justified? he asked without responding to her question.

"Do you mean, do I think that your doing the _saving-people-thing _again?" Hermione shook her head, "Are you ever going to forgive me for that?"

"Hermione, if I'd listened to you in the first place and…. trusted you, I…" Harry began.

"Oh stop it!" Ron glared at them, "What's done is done. Do you wanna know if you should go after Snape? Well, you've already decided. Do you need our permission? No. Do we think your wrong for doing it? It's your choice. But you don't get to make that choice for us either, Harry. We're going to help too or you're not going," Ron stood and towered over Harry.

_Hermione is right, _Harry thought_, you have changed_.

"Glad to have you along, mate," Harry said softly, and extended his hand. Ron shook it. Hermione did the same.

"Alright, then, " Harry continued, smiling, "what's the plan?" It felt good to be with the two of them again.

It was Ron's idea that surprised Harry the most.

"It's going to take a long time, but we can be doing some things while we wait. In the meantime, you've got to accept Malfoy's invitation to Christmas at his house," Ron said.

Harry and Hermione stared at him. They were sharing butterbeer and pumpkin pasties laid out on the tablecloth on the floor.

"What?" Harry mumbled. he had just bitten into the sweet pastry and found his mouth going dry. _Are you mental? _he thought, but stopped himself from saying it aloud.

"Yeah, that's the only way I can see, " Ron said nodding. "You go there and Lucius is there. Maybe you can learn where Snape is, and what's happening to you-know-who… V…Voldemort, to see if the poison is working."

Harry stared at him. He didn't think he'd ever hear the name come out of Ron's mouth.

"I'm not mad about that idea, Ron," Hermione whispered, looking positively terrified.

"Lucius is not going to recognize, Harry," Ron said. "I didn't. Besides Professor LeClair has taught us a lot of useful tricks to getting information and such. If Snape is still alive then we can move in and get him. If he's not, Harry can learn what Malfoy is up to. I mean, the guts Lucius must have to return home in the first place; thinking that the Ministry wouldn't be watching for him and all."

Harry thought it over and said thoughtfully, "Yes, you're right. I think that's what we'll have to do. Still it's a long time before Christmas."

"Are you two mental?!" Hermione asked, voicing Harry's previous thoughts. "Malfoy is a very powerful wizard, Harry. And… and if Voldemort has taken the poison then he's going to be extremely dangerous. Every spell he performs will ricochet back on him and it's going to make him furious Your going to be right in the viper's nest!"

"Got any better ideas?" Harry asked.

"We could wait for the Order," she began.

"No!" Harry and Ron said together.

"I told you, Snape made Dumbledore promise not to send anyone after him. Snape's sacrificing himself and Dumbledore's going to let him," Harry said to her.

"Alright, Harry," she said studying him seriously. "What do you want me to do?


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty Two

Harry packed his trunk while Draco waited. He nodded, "I'm ready."

Draco was all of a flutter as he helped him take his things down to the gate. They were scheduled to take the Hogwarts Express to London and be picked up there by a limousine.

Harry had met with Hermione and Ron in a late-night rendezvous the previous evening to go over their plan. Hermione had spent the month prior to Christmas once again brewing Polyjuice Potion. Ron was going to take it and play two roles, himself and Harry to cover Harry's departure from Hogwarts so that Dumbledore and Jolie wouldn't be aware of his destination until it was too late. Harry advised him to stay away from Jolie as much as possible and had even gone so far as to send a note to Jolie telling him that they would resume their lessons after Christmas.

Now, Harry was riding down to the station in a Hogwarts carriage listening to Draco chatter on. Crabbe and Goyle were crowded in on one side and the seat in was in included Pansy Parkinson who was breathing rather heavily on his neck.

Harry worked to keep Draco amused during the train ride. Crabbe and Goyle surfaced eventually and Harry left them to keep Draco occupied while he walked the train fidgeting and worrying.

They arrived in London in the evening hours and were met by a chauffeur and a limo. Harry was tired of Draco's incessant bragging but knew that, at the very least, he had a week to listen to it and steeled himself for it.

"We can't apparate to the house, even though my father says he'll teach me how soon," Draco was saying. "It's damned inconvenient to have to take this muggle transportation. Hope you don't mind."

Harry didn't mind the hand-tooled leather seats that were much like couches, with room to stretch his legs. He'd never ridden in anything but his Aunt and Uncle's cramped little car and those trips had been nightmares. There was food sitting in a basket and butterbeer cooled and waiting for them in a champagne pail.

The drive was short. They arrived at Malfoy Manor, mysteriously set in a very rich and private wizard neighborhood. The house itself was an imposing mansion with two wings and over two hundred bright and shining windows that seemed to watch them as they drove the long circular drive. They pulled through the guarded gate just as the sun was setting on the private reserve and forest. The snow-covered trees were beautiful as the pink rays of the sunset played over them.

"You'll meet my parents this evening," Draco said, climbing out. "Dinner is at eight. Until then I can show you the grounds or the house, whatever you like. Or we can ride brooms!" Draco said excitedly, his eyes shining.

Harry agreed, to keep Draco occupied and placated. In the deepening twilight, Harry skimmed over the treetops alongside Draco while he pointed out the significant areas of the Malfoy estate. Then, when it grew so dark they could no longer see, Harry was guided through the mansion to his own room; a room that was almost as large as the entire commons room at Hogwarts.

"Wash up and I'll knock on your door at 7:45. Father's not here yet, but we mustn't be late for dinner. 7:45 sharp, then." Draco was down the hall and headed towards one of a dozen doors that lined the expansive hallway.

Harry felt a little sorry for Draco. It was clear that he didn't have much company and no friends he thought worthy enough to join him on holiday. Harry was sure that Crabbe or Goyle had not received such royal treatment. He found his trunk lying opened and his belongings neatly folded and lying on a bench at the foot of an enormous four poster bed.

Harry looked at his things. They seemed a little the worse for wear compared to the very expensive velvet settee they had been laid out on. Running his hand along the edge of the trunk lining he was relieved to discover the mirror was intact and hidden.

One of the things that Hermione had done for him was to repair the mirror Sirius had given him and to duplicate it. They'd had a great deal of difficulty in stealing into Snape's private quarters and locating Harry's personal belongings. Harry also noted that his Invisibility Cloak was gone, which meant that Snape had taken it with him.

Harry placed the mirror in a pocket in his robes and waited for Draco. He almost dropped off to sleep, now that he was warm. his frayed nerves had sucked the energy from him and the bed seemed awfully soft. Instead, he jerked himself awake and watched the mantel clock.

They entered the dining hall at eight o'clock. A table for five was laid out with crystal stemware, china and gold tableware. Draco pointed him to a chair and stood waiting. Harry was mildly uncomfortable. He had never been in a wealthy persons house and wasn't sure how things were done.

They waited only a moment before a tall woman with pale blond hair exactly like Draco's and her husbands. She was dressed in a long sparkling evening gown of white that set off her pink cheeks and red lips. She entered on the dining room on the arm of- Severus Snape.

Harry sucked in his breath and hoped that his face did not reflect what he was feeling inside.

"Draco, please introduce your little friend to us," his mother said, sounding very grand and cultured. Harry had to keep from snickering.

"Mother, this is Tomas Pane," Draco said and pulled her chair out, waiting until she sat.

Snape sat at her right side and Draco then nodded to Harry to sit. Snape was looking calmly at him. "Hello, Mr. Pane. Narcissa told me that you were coming." By using her name, Snape made it plain that they were on good terms with one another.

"Hello, Professor," Harry said, dry-mouthed. _Are you one of them again_, he thought furiously. _Decide to go back to Voldemort did you?_

"Hello, everyone, sorry I'm late," Lucius Malfoy said as he strolled in, kissed his wife's hand and sat down at the end of the table.

"Hello, father?" Draco stood at his father's entrance to the room and settled himself back into his seat, and introduced Harry, "Father this is Tomas Pane."

"How do you do, sir," Harry said and stood and shook Lucius' hand.

"Very good, thank you. Nice of you to join us for the holidays. Draco has told me a few things about you. I've been gone on business and only just arrived." Malfoy stopped to look him over carefully. Harry kept a straight face and returned his look without showing any hint of fear. Malfoy went on, "Severus, I understand that the two of you are related?"

Snape looked up and said, "Yes, Lucius, we are actually second cousins." He glanced at Harry and turned away as if he were disinterested in the subject.

"Really?! Well I thought I knew all about you old chap, but I guess there's something new to learn everyday. I didn't know you had any family." Malfoy dropped a crisp, white linen napkin into his lap and smiled carefully at Snape.

"My family is all but gone, Lucius," Snape's voice was slightly chilled. "I'd only just become aware of Mr. Pane's existence myself this summer. He's been in an orphanage. It wasn't possible to leave him there as you can understand."

"Oh, yes?" Malfoy remarked, sipping at a glass of ruby-red wine. He turned his eyes on Harry, which made it difficult for Harry not to visibly squirm in his seat. Everything on the inside made him want to kill the man where he sat. It took his strength to look Malfoy back in the eyes and smile.

"I was very lucky that Professor Snape assisted me into getting into Hogwarts," he managed.

"Yes, well, you have a fine man to teach you all he knows," Lucius smiled and nodded at Snape, lifting his glass in a toast. Snape returned the nod and sipped at his wine.

The dinner went smoothly. Harry had been prepped by Hermione as to correct table manners and etiquette. The worst of his worries appeared to be over, as the adults continued a benign conversation through the meal; neither he or Draco were addressed directly. It almost felt like a meal at the Dursleys house, with the exception that Harry could see his Aunt Petunia looking like a poor cousin compared to such rich fare.

Draco motioned for Harry to leave the table with him when they were finished. "Good night mother, Good night father," he said.

Harry mumbled, "Good evening," and they were out the door and up the long, wide staircase to the second floor.

"Whew!" Draco sighed, "Glad that's over. We won't have to do that again.. The house elves will serve our meals up here from now on." Harry followed Draco down the hall. and Draco waved him into a room. "Come on, let's find something interesting to do."

Just below the surface, Harry was feeling furious. It took all of his strength to maintain his facade. _Here I am_, he chided himself, _having to endure Draco-the bloody git-Malfoy, and Snape is safe and sound sipping wine with the enemy!_

Harry walked into Draco's room just a step behind him and stopped coldThe room was larger than his own guest room and just as elegant, if not more so. What stunned Harry was the amount of things that covered every shelf, corner and surface.

Draco had a mixture of everything that any ordinary muggle would have plus, most if not all of the wizard things he could acquire and beyond that several shelves of objects that he bragged were used to do dark magic. Harry stood looking at the heaps around him in awe.

"I know it's a bit overwhelming at first," Draco was saying. "I have a collection…."

Harry spent the evening being entertained by Draco's exhibiting his unique 'collection'. It was late when he made his way back to his own room. A lamp was lit and a fire burned in the immense fireplace. His bed had been turned down and his pajamas neatly folded on his pillow. A plate of pumpkin bread and a glass of milk sat on the bedside table. And, across the room, Snape was sitting in a chair by the fire.

"Hello," Harry said, closing the door gently. His other hand was touching the wand that was on the inside of his shirt.

Snape nodded and waved him over to the opposite chair. He unexpectedly waved of his wand and without speaking a word Snape cast a spell on Harry. He immediately felt a gauzy sensation overcome him, rather like standing in a very close space. He'd not had time to reach for his own wand.

"Don't worry, Potter, I wasn't cursing you. I put a spell on us so that no one can overhear," Snape said. "Now will you tell me what the devil you are doing here? I thought I made it very clear to Dumbledore that no one was to follow me."

Harry remained silent.

"Oh don't tell me you've got it into your mind to rescue me?" he said it with disdain.

"Forgive me for thinking that I needed to rescue you!" Harry growled, feeling every bit the contempt that he was trying to show in his voice. "You obviously don't ever take into consideration that other people are willing to take risks, too. That the job is not all yours." He knew he was repeating something he'd overheard between Ron and Hermione in the library months before, and yet he thought it fitting.

"Did Dumbledore send you?" he asked.

"No. He said that he promised you he would not send anyone," Harry answered.

Snape nodded. He appeared to be thinking.

"Did HE take it?" Harry knew that Snape understood. "Or have you changed your mind and traded sides?"

"IF I did Potter, you would not be sitting there." Snape moved from his chair, stood at the mantel facing Harry and said, "He did receive our gift. That is why I remain here." He watched Harry carefully. "I am here to prepare potions that are … healing. He does not care that I am no longer at Hogwarts. My usefulness, now, is in… aiding him."

"And are you AIDING him, Snape?" Harry asked.

Snape didn't answer. They stared at one another.

"Well?" Harry persisted.

"There is nothing that will cure him of what ails him now," Snape said, "Whatever he does, rebounds back on him ten-fold." Snape continued to watch him, "But that does not mean that his servant's are not almost as powerful as he and both of us are now in a very precarious position."

" But HE would have found you out eventually, even if I hadn't come?" Harry asked.

"He was getting rather tired of my incompetence, yes," Snape smirked. "Are you satisfied, Potter? Now that we both need rescuing?" He then turned to the window to look outside. "We have to get you out of here," Snape said, and started to pace slowly in front of him.

"The holidays will be over in a week," Harry began, "I'll just…"

"You don't understand!" Snape said. "HE'S coming here! Tonight!"

"Who?" Then Harry understood, "HE is?"

"Yes!" Snape stopped, "You weren't practiced enough in occlumency to stop him when you were at Hogwarts. It is very likely HE will enter your mind the minute he is here. And I would not doubt that he can easily see through your disguise. Right now he is preoccupied with his… pain."

"What about you?" Harry asked. "Do you intend to stay?"

Snape smiled strangely, "I am a guest. Not a trusted guest, Mr. Potter. Malfoy is here to make sure that I tend to the Dark Lord. They don't understand what is happening and the Dark Lord has summoned all of the Death Eaters. They have been alerted to the possibility of an infiltrator; an assassin. They just don't know who that is.They do not know what is happening and so they are coming together to discuss it." Snape continued, " I am an obvious candidate for being an assassin because I work at Hogwarts. Everyone seems to be questioning my loyalties. My compliance now is all that keeps them from believing I have not turned traitor."

"I have a question, Professor?" Harry watched Snape and continued carefully, "Maybe it's a bad time, but I have to know. When did you change your mind and leave the Death Eaters? What made you change it?"

The dark eyes drilled into him and Harry wasn't sure he was going to get an answer.

"The day that the Dark Lord killed your mother," Snape said.

Harry knew what the answer was going to be.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty Three

"You didn't think I'd come here without a way to get out," Harry said casually.

"Did you?" Snape said, "I'm impressed." Both stopped when they heard a noise from outside. Harry's hand flew to his scar. He was immediately on his knees retching. "I'll be more impressed, Potter, if it works." Snape said, his hand reaching under Harry's arm as he doubled over. "Do you think you can rely on me to do the rescuing for the moment and get us out of here?"

Harry nodded, stumbling along with Snape's hand holding him steady. "There's something you ought to know, " he whispered.

"What's that, Mr. Potter?" Snape grunted.

"Hermione's been teaching me how to apparate," Harry said.

"Oh, very good," Snape said with the usual sarcasm resounding in his voice. He was pulling Harry down the hall, " Unfortunately, we have to be outside. This house has a number of protective spells on it and we can't apparate inside."

Harry managed to steady himself as they came to a junction and stopped.

"Alright Potter, I'm going to put a spell on you," Snape said and pulled his wand from his pocket, "I'm going to modify your memory."

"What? Why?" Harry stammered.

"A precaution. If HE should touch your mind, he will not know it is you," Snape said.

"Oh no, I don't think so," Harry said and reached for his own wand.

They stood glaring at each other in the half-light. They were at a deadlock.

"Come on, then," Snape grabbed his arm and they started down a darkened staircase.

Harry knew where they were when they reached the bottom floor. They stepped into a large kitchen where several wizened house elves were washing dishes. The elves looked up and then away quickly and resumed their work.

Snape pulled him along a dark narrow hallway, through a broom closet, lined with several dozen brooms, including several Firebolts and out into a barn. Besides horses, the barn held the limousine that Harry had arrived in.

Harry could hear a commotion in the house and knew that an alarm had been sounded. "Are we in trouble yet?" he asked Snape.

"Not yet, but we will be in a minute or two. Malfoy made it very clear later this evening that I would be brought before Him tonight," Snape replied. "Now, tell me Potter that you have actually managed to apparate, not just across the room, but truly apparate."

"Across the grounds of Hogwarts. " Harry said and added, "but I know I can do it. Just tell me where we are going."

"We're going to have to find another way, "Snape was rolling his eyes and striding back and forth over the barn floor. "That's all we'd need is for you to splinch yourself."

Harry knew what Snape was talking about. He'd once asked Mr. Weasley what happened when someone didn't apparate correctly and he didn't like the sound of the results.

"What about the brooms?" Harry said.

"All of them jinxed," Snape answered.

"Who are you?" Draco asked, behind them. He had his wand out and pointing at them.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, calmly.

"I might ask the same thing. I followed the two of you down here." Draco said and stepped into the dim light. "Shouldn't you wait and speak to my father, Professor. I'm sure he'd like a word with you. Or perhaps our GUEST will."

"Professor, would you mind indulging me and doing that little memory charm we just spoke of on our friend here," Harry said and stepped to one side. As anticipated, Draco's wand followed him.

"OBLIVIATE MODECUM!" Snape shouted, and pointed his wand at Draco.

"Get in," Harry said. He pulled the door open to the limo. Draco stood transfixed in the middle of the barn.

"What? Use this muggle thing?" Snape said frowning at the limo. "Do you know how to ride it?"

"About as well, " Harry grinned and said, "as I know how to apparate."

Snape sneered and slid into the passenger seat. "We'll be lucky to live through the night."

Harry started the car, pulled the gear lever to drive and started forward. "Professor, if you'll just get the door for me."

Snape waved his wand nonchalantly and the door sprung open.

Harry stepped on the gas and then the brake, almost slamming both of them into the windshield. "Yes, alright. I've almost got it." He glanced over to a very disgruntled, ugly Snape. "Put that thing around your middle and fasten it. It's called a seat belt."

Snape looked at the device and waved it together with his wand.

Harry pulled forward gently, guiding the long car through the doors.

"We have to go faster than this Potter or they'll catch us," Snape said, briskly, peering back.

"Hold on," Harry pressed his foot to the pedal and they shot forward, his inexperienced hand barely turning the wheel in time to avoid a snow drift.

"Ah, too late!" Snape turned and looked ahead.

Three Death Eaters stood in the middle of the road, directly in their path, wands out and pointed their way. Harry pushed the pedal all the way to the floor and directed the limo at them. They scattered barely in time to avoid being run over. He and Snape were moving down the drive gathering speed.

"And what was your plan to rescue us, Mr. Potter?" Snape said between his gritted teeth.

Harry had already pulled the mirror from his pocket, "Hermione?!" he screamed. The headlights of the car picked up the forest trees and strange moving shadows.

And then it happened, he lost control. The car hit an embankment and sailed through the snow and over once, landing on its' top.

Harry crawled from the wreckage directly into the pointing wand of a Death Eater. He glanced over and saw Snape roll out of the door and get unsteadily to his feet. He had a bleeding gash on his head. Harry stood and examined his own body. He knew he had a broken arm, because he had broken the same arm the year a rogue bludger hit it during a Quidditch match.

"Stand still," the hooded figure said.

Hermione and Ron apparated beside them. Snape looked with surprise, "Now you've done it Potter, you've gotten us all killed."

"Do you mind if I do the rescuing now, Professor?" Harry said.

"Harry," Jolie's voice echoed in the dark, "it is time."

Harry closed his eyes and began to whisper, inaudibly. He felt the wind rise and the snow begin to swirl and sting his face. He opened his eyes, chanting and watching as a dozen Death Eaters began popping in around them..

"Do as I say, do it now Snape!" he shouted over the gathering roar of the blowing snow.

Lucius Malfoy apparated and pointed his wand directly at Snape's chest, shouting, "Avada Kadavra!"

"Take him now Hermione!" Harry shouted at the same time. Two Death Eaters apparated in front of them and shot blue streaks at Hermione and Ron. They didn't appear to be touched. The Death Eaters stood stunned for a moment and turned towards Harry.

Harry ducked and shouted, "I'm right behind you."

Harry dove into the snow and rolled as he heard Lucius Malfoy's voice, " Get them, get them! Don't let them get away!" A tornado of blowing snow covered him. "They're right there!" Lucius said in a frustrated, angry voice. "Get out of my way!" And then, Harry heard the cracks as the Death Eaters fired at the images of Ron and Hermione and sent two trees crashing to the ground. A plume of ice crystals and mounds of snow sent up a cloud into the dark night and the blowing snow.

_Oh please, please, let this work_, he thought and apparated.

Harry found himself in one piece in the Shrieking Shack. _Whoa! That was too close! _he thought and glanced up. He'd made an imperfect landing and found himself lying on his broken arm, in the dust face-down.

"Harry, Harry you all right, Mate? " Ron rolled him over gently, studying his face.

"No, I've got a broken arm," Harry coughed, breathing in the dust, "just help me up." He struggled to a sitting position and noticed Snape sitting in a chair, one leg crossed over the other, studying him. Other than a bleeding scalp he looked perfectly fine; and angry. Next to him stood a tall mirror and Jolie.

"That worked pretty well," Harry said. Hermione and Ron grinned at him.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty Four

"It was Ron's idea to apparate their mirror images instead of apparating directly there in person, Professor," Harry told Dumbledore. " I couldn't let them put themselves in danger. And, it was Jolie who sent the mirror image of Professor Snape, to deflect the curses, so he had time to apparate," Harry explained. "Jolie is a master illusionist. We thought that using mirrors sounded a whole lot safer. It's the same thing we used at the carnival grounds this summer."

"And the snow storm?" Dumbledore asked. "Well, never mind that. There are some mysteries that should stay mysteries don't you think, Harry?" Dumbledore was smiling at him.

Harry nodded.

"Well, we've lost a good spy, but that is neither here nor there. Professor's Snape's work is finished as far as that goes. It was bound to happen and I'm actually very relieved," Dumbledore said and poured himself some tea.

"Do you think that Voldemort knew who I was, Professor?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, Harry. Only time will tell, " Dumbledore shook his head. "Perhaps, he thought Snape was the traitor and you just happened to be there by accident; or you've been specially recruited for the job. Let us hope that he remains occupied these days." Dumbledore looked up at him. "Thanks to you, we have the time to prepare a little more. You've saved a lot of lives, Harry. I hope you are proud of yourself."

Harry shrugged. He knew he would still have to keep his identity a secret on the chance that he could continue to evade the confrontation with Voldemort. He had his friends back and he had to admit he felt stronger.

"What's troubling you, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, "Will you tell me?"

"I thought I knew my parents, Professor. Then, I found out I didn't know anything about them at all," he said. The teacup was steady in his hand.

"You mean you found out that they were human beings, with all the strengths and weaknesses we humans have. And, they disappointed you." Dumbledore nodded wisely.

"We all have disappointed you, I expect."

"It's just that you… you and the others, like Remus; you could have been more honest about them, you could have told me more." Harry said.

"Told you what, Harry?" Dumbledore said, "People aren't like open books for us to read, to know their every thought and feeling. Sometimes we guess, but we can't be sure. You've got to take the good along with the bad." He studied Harry. "Does it change the fact that they loved each other and loved you? Does knowing more change who they were?"

"No," Harry answered.

"Does it change how you feel about them?" he asked.

Harry thought about it and left Dumbledore without an answer. Harry knew that he loved his parents, that he had stopped being mad at them and he'd even stopped being mad at Sirius. _We all make mistakes_, he thought. He left Dumbledore's office and walked down the corridor.

"What are you doing roaming the halls, Mr. Pane?" Snape's gruff voice sounded behind him.

"I'm on my way to class, Professor," Harry said turning slowly.

"Then, get on with it," Snape growled.

"Thank you, Professor Crow, I will," Harry said very politely in Romani and turned away, smiling.


End file.
